Lord Voldemort and the Purple Roadmonkeys
by Professor Cassandra
Summary: Maintaining a dark and evil reputation is undoubtedly stressful, so once per year the Dark Lord and his followers take a much needed holiday. This year he has decided to form a biker gang most deadly, and only one name will suffice: The Purple Roadmonkeys
1. The Purple Roadmonkeys

**A/N: This is a sequel to another story of mine, The Annual Death Eater Beach Trip, but if you haven't read the Beach Trip you can still read this one independently--I've taken care to explain all the important details of its predecessor. So, anyway, I hope you enjoy it, and I hope it makes you laugh until your family questions your sanity! (If it doesn't, I'm not doing my job!)**

Lord Voldemort lay back leisurely on a lawn chair in his backyard, playing Animal Crossing on his Nintendo DS. The forest surrounding Riddle Mansion was bursting with foliage of a rich green, and there was not a cloud in the sky. The only sounds that disturbed the tranquility were the buzzing of pollinating bees, the soft chirping of bluebirds overhead, and of course, the upbeat music coming from the Dark Lord's favorite video game. The temperature was rising; summer was fast approaching.

His mind was hardly focused on the game anymore, for he could not help but reminisce on certain memories of the previous summer. Ah, road trips…there is simply nothing like them, and his most recent one was certainly a memorable holiday. Despite the fact that it had ended with a broken posterior on his part, he now recalled it quite fondly. Many good times were had, as well as bad, and he had learned many important lessons along the way; for instance, he'll certainly never try wrestling a grizzly bear again.

Yes, he felt as if nothing in the world could top the good old-fashioned road trip, and looked forward to taking another one in just two short weeks. His opinion would soon change, however, as a faint roaring was heard in the distance. It grew louder, seeming to get closer every second. Voldemort sat up, curiously eyeing the small gravel road nearby, until it appeared.

It was a brand new Harley Davison motorcycle, ridden by a tall man wearing sunglasses, a bandana, and a leather jacket. The bike sparkled in the sunlight as it sped by the mansion, Voldemort gazing in awe. It was the absolute coolest thing he had ever seen.

"Holy crap…………"

* * *

"Greetings, my faithful servants!" Voldemort sat in a large, throne-like seat at the end of a long table, his Death Eaters all gazing admirably at him. "I suppose you're all wondering why I've called you here today."

"It's about the beach trip, isn't it?" shrieked Bellatrix ecstatically. "I know it is!"

Everyone else seemed to be thinking the same thing, as they could not conceal their wide grins, Snape of course being the exception.

"It most certainly is, Bella," replied Voldemort. "I have summoned you all to announce…that we are not going on a beach trip this year."

Disappointed and angry murmurs broke out around the table. Draco Malfoy sobbed hysterically in his mother's arms.

"Instead," said the Dark Lord loudly, drawing all attention again to him, "we are going to do something much different…and much cooler. Wormtail, bring it out!"

Wormtail entered the room, pushing in front of him something large that was covered by a blanket. The Death Eaters were all completely clueless about the mysterious object, save for the fact that it had wheels (otherwise, stout little Wormtail could not have managed it).

"Behold!" shouted Voldemort, removing the blanket in a dramatic fashion. Everyone gasped. "Yes, 'tis a 'motor bicycle', my friends!" he continued. "You see, I was lounging in my backyard when I heard a rumbling in the distance, so I sat up, curiously eyeing the small gravel road nearby, until it appeared. It was a brand new Harley Davison motor bicycle, ridden by a tall man wearing sunglasses, a bandana, and a leather jacket. The bike sparkled in the sunlight as it sped by my mansion, while I gazed in awe. It was the absolute coolest thing I have ever seen. 'Holy crap', I said!"

Snape groaned. "My Lord, everyone knows that already!"

"Excuse me? What the crap do you mean by that, Snape? I have not spoken a word of this to anyone…."

"Nothing, My Lord, never mind. Please, do go on."

"Er…yes, very well. My friends, you shall all have one just like this, because…"

"Here it comes…here it comes…_here it comes!_" chanted Bellatrix.

"We are forming our own motor bicycle gang and taking a cross-country road trip!"

Cheers of excitement echoed throughout the room.

"Ah, Wormtail, don't you love it when cheers of excitement echo throughout the room?" asked Voldemort, feeling quite pleased with himself.

"Yes, Master."

"Yes, rather…. Now bring in the others!"

Wormtail groaned but reluctantly obeyed, dragging countless heavy motorcycles into the room and knowing all the while that he would only have to take them outside again after the meeting.

"And furthermore…," the Dark Lord continued dramatically. The crowd was still with anticipation, save for Wormtail, who was not even halfway done with his grueling task. "We shall not be taking our wands this year."

Confusion was etched on every face in the crowd, and there were many murmurs of anger and disapproval.

"SILENCE!"

Death Eaters may be idiots, but they know when to shut up.

"My friends, you have lost the spirit of the good old American road trip!"

"But we're British….," mumbled one random, nameless Death Eater.

"AVADA KEDAVRA! Now, as I was saying, we shall not be taking our wands because this is a time to _get away!_ To escape the stress of being so incredibly evil and powerful, and do things the Muggle way for a change! I mean, really, it gets old…being so awesome. So what do you say? Are we doing this for real, or not?"

The Death Eaters gave a cheer, and every wand in the room was simultaneously thrown into the air like a graduation cap. Then they all came crashing down to the ground with a _thud_, except for one.

"Snape, are you all right?" asked a concerned Narcissa, whose own wand happened to be the one that Snape was now removing from his eye socket.

He shrugged. "The emotional pain that I feel deep within my soul is equivalent to that of a thousand daggers mercilessly piercing every inch of my lifeless flesh. Your wand cannot possibly cause me any further pain."

"Oh…well, that's just peachy, dear!"

* * *

The day had finally come, and it was pleasantly warm as the sun lay directly overhead. The Death Eaters would have set off by now, had they not been bickering since six a.m. over what to name their gang. Voldemort, having realized at about nine 'o clock that he was incapable of producing a name that wasn't already copyrighted, had stopped trying, and was now enjoying the scene in front of him: countless Death Eaters screaming random names at the top of their lungs, each hoping that theirs would be the one chosen. He leaned back in his seat and laughed as they fought into the afternoon, only occasionally intervening with such comments as, "Shouting the same name multiple times will not earn my favor!", "Whining will get you nowhere, Draco!", and "Bella, let's try and keep this fic rated T, shall we?"

Finally, Snape shoved his way through the crowd to his master. "My Lord, I have a suggestion. Why not pick the name randomly from a hat?"

"Hmm…that's genius, Snape! Not as entertaining…but genius, nonetheless!" He rose from his seat and clapped his hands together, silencing all at once. "All right, who has a hat?"

One nameless disposable Death Eater raised his hand. "I do."

"Excellent! _Avada Kedavra!_" He approached the corpse and snatched the hat off its head. "_Yoink_!"

Everyone frantically searched their pockets for pieces of parchment and began to write down their ideas. Once everyone had deposited their papers into the hat, Voldemort rather dramatically extracted just one, and read it aloud.

"Purple… Roadmonkeys? All right, whose idea was this?"

Draco blushed, grinning as if he were proud of himself. He didn't dare speak up, though.

"Well, _whoever_ came up with this…," said Voldemort loudly, "…is a genius! The name of our gang is The Purple Roadmonkeys!"

No one dared question their master, so they all cheered awkwardly and hopped onto their bikes.

_Crash!_ All heads turned in the direction of the Dark Lord's newest recruit.

"Olga!" roared Voldemort. "Do you have any idea how much that bike _cost_ me?"

Olga, who had joined the Death Eaters just last year upon taking up a relationship with Wormtail, now sat upon a ruined motorcycle; her expression was vacant, as usual. She had gained fifty pounds over the past twelve months, and she was seriously overweight to begin with. In fact, it was her weight alone which caused the untimely demise of her new Harley.

"BIKE NO PRETTY NO MORE!" she announced in her booming voice.

"You know what, Olga?" said Voldemort, irritated. "Why don't you just stay at Malfoy Manor while we're gone?"

Lucius Malfoy had every intention of protesting, but thought better of it upon receiving a warning glance from his wife.

"FOOD THERE?" asked Olga hopefully, for she loved food more than anything else.

"Yes, Olga, they do have food there."

Olga was gone as soon as she heard this, Wormtail shouting countless heartfelt goodbyes after her. She failed to hear any of them, concerned only with the feast that awaited her.

Voldemort was now preparing his own bike for the journey. He planned to take with him his favorite horcrux: a fluffy little teddy bear named Mr. Happysmileyman. A tiny leather jacket now covered its light blue fur, and it was wearing an expensive-looking pair of sunglasses. Voldemort gave the bear a quick hug and carefully strapped it to the bike's leather seat.

The Purple Roadmonkeys started up their bikes and rode off down the highway, and thus began the first annual Death Eater motorcycle trip.

**A/N: What do you think so far? Don't forget to review! ......You're not reviewing. Why aren't you reviewing? Are you still reading this crap? Why are you still reading this crap? Maybe I should stop typing. I'm going to stop typing now, OK? OK, bye...you can review now. Siriusly.**


	2. Respect Your Elders

**A/N: I thought now would be a great time to update, seeing as tomorrow is Snape's birthday _and_ mine! Yes...I celebrate the birthdays of fictional characters. Happy birthday to us!**

The Dark Lord sped down the highway on his pimpin' new bike, followed by his loyal Death Eaters (and Snape). He could feel the cool wind against his face. That and the pure exhilaration of flying down the open road at seventy miles per hour made him feel completely free. He was positive that never in his life had he felt so alive, so unstoppable….

_Ten minutes later…_

The Dark Lord trudged down the highway, pushing his gas exhausted bike in front of him. Of course the Death Eaters followed, all sweating miserably just as he was. Mr. Happysmileyman alone looked comfortable, still riding along on the cool leather seat of Voldemort's bike.

"OK, so we should have filled the tanks before we left. That doesn't mean we can't still have fun!"

Voldemort's attempt at cheerfulness was for naught. It was one hundred degrees outside; "having fun" was impossible. A shiny sports car filled with teenagers passed, and they all pointed and laughed at the unfortunate wizards. Next there came an old-fashioned jeep filled with seniors, who also got a kick out of seeing the big, bad bikers. One of them threw a beer can; another threw his false teeth.

Suddenly, salvation came in the form of a dented road sign, reading "Gas station: next right." Everyone cheered and pushed their bikes a bit faster. They were saved…. Everything would be all right now….

_One hour later…_

"See a right turn yet, My Lord?"

"No…."

"How 'bout now?"

"No…."

"How 'bout now?"

"I DIDN'T SEE ONE TWO SECONDS AGO, DRACO! WHY THE _CRAP_ WOULD I SEE ONE NOW?"

"Master, look!" said Wormtail hopefully. "I see a turn!"

"That's a _left_ turn, you idiot…just like all the others!"

They moaned and groaned as they passed the road to their left, which happened to lead to "Happy Fun Land," a very large and popular amusement park.

"My Lord, we are all _exhausted,_" complained Lucius. "Perhaps we would enjoy a quick stop at Happy Fun Land?"

"No! We're getting gas, dang it, and we are _not_ stopping until we do!"

So they continued in their struggle, traveling several miles further and seeing only left turns.

Suddenly, Bellatrix gasped. "A gas station! A gas station! Voldypoo, we're saved!"

But Voldemort only groaned. "Bella, that's a _left_ turn to get to that gas station. The sign said it would be a _right_ turn."

"What?" said Snape furiously. "Who cares? It's a gas station! We have to stop!"

"We carry on, Severus! A sign has _never_ lied to me before!"

"But, My Lord—"

"That's final!"

Snape reluctantly obeyed, angrily mumbling something about "OCD" under his breath.

_Three hours later…_

They gazed in wonder at the glorious sight before them: an old, shady-looking gas station, located to the right of the highway.

"You see?" said a very smug Voldemort. "If it's on a sign, then it _must_ be true!"

They happily filled each of their tanks to the brim with gasoline. Voldemort's original plan was to drive off without paying. However, upon noticing a rather large shotgun in the possession of the cashier, he quickly pulled out his wallet and checked his cash supply. He seemed to have more than enough to cover the gas.

"…Master?" said Wormtail after a while. "Aren't you going inside to pay?"

"Yes, but I want to wait until _that_ guy leaves first. He looks a bit rough to me."

Wormtail took a closer look at the customer pointed out to him. "Master, that's an old man with his grandchildren…."

"Yes, but he's got a mustache. You've got to watch out for those guys."

"Oh, you'll be fine, My Lord," encouraged Bellatrix. "That old coot wouldn't dare mess with a strong, muscle-bound hunk like you!"

"Er…thank you, Bella. I'll be right back, then." He entered the gas station, making sure to throw a warning glare at the elderly mustached man on his way to the snacks display.

"Let's see…I think I'll get some of this crappy, off-brand chocolate for the Death Eaters. Ooh, I'll get some Spam for Bella, though—that's what she gets for coming on to me! _Muahahahaha!" _He had never liked Spam, and seeing the movie "Sweeney Todd" made him wonder what's really _in_ the stuff….

"Ooh! Twinkies! These are for the Dark Lord! …And I'm done!" He took an armful of snacks to the checkout counter, and the cashier rang them up.

Voldemort reached in his pocket, but could not find his wallet. "Just one minute, my good sir." He dug in his other pocket, and then frantically checked the first one again. "Where is it?"

_Honk honk!_

He jerked his head toward the window at the sound of the loud horn. The old man held up the Dark Lord's wallet gloatingly, and was blowing raspberries at him from the driver's seat of his car. His grandchildren waved from the back seat and stuck their tongues out as well.

"HOLY CRAP!" shouted Voldemort furiously. "THAT BLASTED OLD FART JUST _ROBBED_ ME!"

The squealing of tires was heard as the "blasted old fart" sped away.

"Ahahahahahaha!" An old woman cackled at Voldemort's horrified expression from over by the snacks display.

"What are _you_ laughing at, you old…OH MY WORD!" When he got a good look at the woman's face, memories from the beach trip of the previous year flooded his mind….

_He was swerving into a handicapped parking space in front of a Wal-Mart. An elderly woman glared at him disapprovingly from her car, and moved on to park farther down the aisle. He laughed at her as she slowly hobbled across the parking lot to the store, humorously tripping on a speed bump along the way…._

_The memory faded. He was now swerving into another handicapped space, which was so recently occupied by the same woman's car, now a burning heap of metal. She was a safe distance away when it exploded, much to Voldemort's dismay, but she looked furious…._

_Now he was tensely clutching the seat of his minivan while Bellatrix sped wildly down the highway. "Get off the road, maniac!" shouted an old lady attempting to cross the street. "YOU get off the road!" replied Bellatrix, missing the woman by inches…._

"_You're_ that elderly woman we kept torturing last year!" said Voldemort with a gasp.

"And _you're_ that disrespectful young whipper-snapper who gave me all that trouble!"

The cashier groaned. "Well, it took you long enough to figure _that_ one out…. Seriously, do you think the readers are idiots or something?"

"Readers?" said a confused Voldemort. "What the crap are you talking about?"

"Nothing…. Never mind."

"Right, well…," said the old woman, "anyway, I think you owe me an apology, young man!"

"I owe you _nothing_, you old biddy!"

"Didn't anyone ever teach you to respect your elders? Sonny, I'm going to give you what you deserve!"

"What the crap do you—OW!" She swung her large purse and hit him hard on his bottom. "What do you think you're—OW! Stop it!"

"That'll learn ya!" She swung again, but Voldemort dodged.

"Forget the shotgun! I'm getting the heck out of here!" Leaving all his snacks behind, he ran for his bike, and the Death Eaters all followed him as he drove away from the gas station at top speed.

It wasn't until they were far away from the gas station that Voldemort realized what time it was. Night was approaching, and it was time at last to set up camp.

**A/N: So, basically, kids, the lesson here is: never underestimate the elderly. They will rob you blind and beat the crap out of you with their friggin' purses. Have a nice day! ;)**


	3. Unhappy Campers

Everyone sat around a campfire, which after many trials and tribulations they had managed to light by using the oil from Snape's hair. Voldemort was seated upon a large rock as if it were his throne, while the Death Eaters had only the damp ground below them. They all laughed as they roasted marshmallows over the fire; whether this was due to the joy of camping or at the expense of the burning marshmallows could not be determined.

"You know," said Voldemort leisurely, "this really is the life!"

Murmurs of agreement echoed all around the campfire.

"So what's in these things anyway?" asked Draco as he devoured yet another gooey roasted marshmallow.

"Don't ask, son," replied Lucius. "Just enjoy the moment."

"But, Dad, I'm curious." He stuck another marshmallow onto a stick and began to roast it.

"Um, well…" He leaned over and whispered something unintelligible into his son's ear.

Draco paused, his eyes wide. He was in such shock that he failed to notice his marshmallow had caught fire. "EEEEEEEEW!" he finally screamed, flinging his stick into the air.

"DRACO!" shouted his worried mother, pointing at the Dark Lord. The marshmallow Draco had thrown was currently laying about an inch from the rock where Voldemort sat.

"Oh, My Lord, I'm so sorry! Please forgive me!" Draco begged. "I didn't mean it, I swear!"

"Oh, don't be sorry, Draco," Voldemort replied with a laugh. "You've just given me a brilliant idea!" He laughed once more, purposely igniting his own marshmallow, and then gave the stick a violent shake, sending the marshmallow flying directly into Snape's eye. "FLAMING MARSHMALLOW FIGHT!"

"Yay!" squealed the Death Eaters, all igniting their own marshmallows, which they then proceeded to chuck mercilessly at each other. When he managed to extract the last bit of hot melted goop from his eye, Snape joined in as well, only to receive another flaming marshmallow square in his other eye.

Draco alone looked scared out of his mind, but everyone else was having too much fun to notice. Voldemort currently had three sticks in each hand and was lobbing marshmallows madly at anyone within throwing distance, laughing maniacally all the while. Bellatrix perhaps enjoyed the game even more, for causing unnecessary pain simply "for the heck of it" was among her favorite pastimes. Even Narcissa, who was normally the most level-headed and responsible member of the group, seemed to be having a blast. She, in fact, was currently throwing taunts lined with obscenities at her fellow Death Eaters as she pelted them with marshmallows.

Suddenly, Smoky the Bear stepped out from behind the bushes. "Only YOU can prevent forest fires!"

"Holy crap, it's a talking bear!" shouted Voldemort. "Let's bombard it with flaming marshmallows!"

"Yeah!" cheered the Death Eaters, laughing as they obediently attacked the bear.

Smoky groaned. "I am too friggin' _old_ for this crap…."

* * *

The long table in the dining room of Malfoy Manor, where the Death Eaters always gathered for their meetings, was covered with every kind of food imaginable. Olga stood at one end, having broken every chair in the room simply by sitting on them. She smiled, baring her crooked and yellowing teeth.

"OLGA DO GOOD!"

But just as she was about to devour her first chicken leg, a mysterious rustling was heard from a nearby closet.

Olga looked up from her feast, startled and confused. "WHO THERE?"

Again came the rustling. Olga approached the closet and listened carefully.

"_Help me…," _said a low, hissing voice.

"OLGA HEAR VOICES…." She tapped herself lightly on the head, her one eyebrow creased in worry. "OLGA CRAZY LIKE WILD HAIR WOMAN?"

"_No, please help me…."_

Olga, not knowing her own strength, ripped the closet door off its hinges. A large snake weakly slithered out and hissed with pleasure. "_Freedom! Oh, thank you so much, my repulsive, brutish savior!"_

"WHO YOU ARE?"

"_My name is Nagini."_

"ME OLGA!"

"_It's a pleasure to meet you."_

"YOU FOOD?"

"_What? No! Please don't eat me! I can explain everything.... See, I've been trapped in that closet for months."_

"NAGINI COME OUT OF CLOSET?"

"_That's right."_

Olga stared at the snake, her expression void of any thought or emotion. Then she smiled. "OLGA ACCEPT NAGINI FOR WHO SHE IS!"

"_No, I didn't mean it like that! I was literally locked in there by my master, Lord Voldemort, and I've been living off cockroaches this entire time. Trust me; this place is crawling with them…."_

"WHY YOU LOCK IN CLOSET?"

Nagini snarled. _"I used to be his favorite horcrux before that…vile…unholy…bear came along…. Ever since, he's had no time for me. He doesn't care for me anymore."_

"OLGA LIKE NAGINI."

"_Thank you, Olga. I like you, too. But wait…how can you understand me?"_

"OLGA PARSELMOUTH!"

"_Oh wow…didn't see that one coming…."_

"OLGA AND NAGINI FRIENDS NOW?"

"_Sure, if that means you won't eat me!"_

"SWEET…. WE GO EAT FOOD NOW, FRIEND!"

* * *

Voldemort and the Death Eaters again surrounded the campfire, all sitting quietly. Their game had ended a while ago, as they had exhausted their remaining supply of marshmallows on poor Smoky.

Voldemort leaned back on his rock throne. "You know, this is an incredible night for camping. The stars sparkling above us like a million little Dark Marks in the sky… the crisp breeze of a perfect summer's night serenely drifting by… the musky scent of pine from the beautiful forest surrounding us… the warm glow emanating from the smoking bear carcass…."

"Yeah, I'm bored, too," said Wormtail with a sigh.

"Amen to that, homeskillet. Anyone know any campfire songs? ……No? All righty then…."

They all sat in awkward silence.

"_Like a rhinestone Dark Lord…,_" Voldemort began to sing, but then stopped when he realized he didn't know the rest of the words. The awkward silence continued.

…and continued.

…and continued.

Finally, Snape cleared his throat and began to sing quietly, in a dull monotone. "_Eeeeeeevery rose has its thorn…."_

Lucius provided the next line, his voice a bit higher than Snape's. "_Just like eeeeevery night has its day…."_

"_Just like eeeeevery Dark Lord,_" sang Voldemort with much feeling, "_sings a sad, sad song…."_

"_Eeeeeveryyyyy rose has its thorn_," finished all the Death Eaters. And again there was awkward silence.

At some point, having nothing else to do, they resorted to discussing their feelings.

"…and if it wasn't bad enough, living in a Muggle orphanage, I always got blamed for everything as well," said Voldemort darkly, continuing his account of his childhood suffering. "Like, for instance, one time I took two other children to a cave with me to show them this cool-looking rock I found, and apparently I 'scarred them for life!' I mean, how was I supposed to know Michael Jackson would be in there?"

"Oh, My Lord," sobbed Bellatrix, "that is so sad…."

_Ugh, spare me,_ thought Snape, his eyes still burning with pain. Desperate to escape this uncomfortable situation, he noted to his master how late it was and suggested that they all turn in for the night.

"You're probably right, Snape," replied Voldemort. "Let's set up the tents now, shall we? I packed two: one for the men and one for the women. Because, after all, the Dark Lord has strict morals, and I will _not_ stand for hanky panky!"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Only _two_ tents, My Lord? But how will we all fit?"

Voldemort laughed evilly. "Oh, ye of little mind! Of course I plan on expanding them with magi…oh crap."

A few short minutes later, the tents were set up and everyone was settled in.

Bellatrix, Narcissa, and Alecto Carrow-- the only female Death Eaters considered important enough to come along on the trip-- all slept peacefully inside their tent. There was plenty of room for all three of them to fit comfortably, and it was wonderfully cozy inside their warm, downy sleeping bags.

Inside the men's tent was a different story. They were all packed together so tightly that no one could breathe, let alone sleep. They pushed and shoved each other, for it was every man for himself in the great struggle for comfort. At last they became exhausted and realized that comfort was simply impossible in such an overcrowded area, so they all just lay still, feeling miserable and more awkward than they had ever felt in their lives. _Every Rose Has its Thorn_ played in the background, reflecting their negative attitudes and adding a bit of humorous irony to the scene.

"OK," said Voldemort with a forced calmness to his voice, "whoever's foot that is, I'm gonna ask you to stop." There was a rustling of movement. "Thanks."

"Worst. Night. _Ever_," groaned an angry Snape, who had once again been awakened after just drifting off.

"Oh, I don't know," said Voldemort in an attempt to cheer him up. "What about the night I killed that chick you liked? That probably sucked worse for you, I'd wager."

"Actually, no, this is probably worse."

"Am I the only one who's enjoying this sleepover?" asked a peppy Draco.

Voldemort shot Lucius a threatening look. "_I'll talk to him after the holiday!_" Lucius snapped in reply.

They thought the situation couldn't become more awkward, but the silence that followed proved them wrong.

"So…," said Voldemort, "any of you guys seen Brokeback Mountain?"

There were many murmurs of "Oh yeah", "Good movie", and "I have the DVD."

"Why do you ask?" Wormtail wondered aloud.

"Oh, no reason, I just happened to think of it. I only saw it in the first place for Anne Hathaway…um, just saying... but, yeah, good movie."

There was much small talking that night, and very little sleeping. All were in high spirits the next day, as the women woke rested, and the men… well, they were just happy to escape.

**A/N: If anyone's interested, I wrote some humorous blog entries for a few of the Death Eaters on my website, and I'm going to try and update them frequently. There's a link on my profile if you wanna check them out. :)**


	4. The Quaint Little Pub

It was the most glorious sight they had ever seen in their lives. Voldemort's eyes actually filled with tears as he beheld it: a large sign in front of a store, reading, "Tents 'R' Us." All the male Death Eaters ran after Voldemort into the store, shouting ecstatically as the women stood wondering what the big deal was.

The men emerged minutes later, all looking extremely satisfied. However, none of them were carrying anything. The women were puzzled; why would they rush into a store like that if they weren't going to buy anything? That question was answered when Wormtail trudged out the door after all the rest, struggling with an armload of large shopping bags.

Once all the tents were safely packed away (by Wormtail alone), the Death Eaters happily set off yet again.

* * *

They were riding along a desolate highway in the middle of nowhere, when Voldemort abruptly stopped. The Death Eaters almost crashed, for he had parked his bike in the middle of the road.

"We have a problem, my friends," he said in a rather dramatic fashion.

"Oh, My Lord, what is it? What's wrong?" Bellatrix asked frantically.

"Lord Voldemort must empty his dark bladder, and I am sad to say that there is no water closet nearby."

Snape sighed. "Why not just go behind that tree over there, My Lord?"

"Severus, that is SICK! What kind of person do you think I am?"

"But, My Lord, that's what bikers do. It's part of the whole 'freedom' thing, or whatever."

"Well…alright." He reluctantly dismounted his bike and approached the tree, and then stood behind it for minutes without doing anything.

He sighed. "Bella, I can't go with you watching."

Bellatrix gave him an encouraging pat on the back. "Sure you can! Just try!"

"You know, I believe I can wait…."

"Aww…." Bellatrix pouted, but returned to her bike.

They took off again, riding a bit faster this time. After what seemed to Voldemort like an eternity, a small building appeared on the horizon.

"Finally!" Voldemort sighed in relief and sped up a bit. They were there within minutes.

A ragged-looking sign revealed the name of the place: "The Flaming Hog." The building itself looked as if it had seen better days, as did the motorcycles already parked out front. The parking lot consisted of nothing but dirt, which coated the wheels of the Death Eaters' motorcycles as they pulled in.

The inside of the bar was much worse. It was dimly lit, but the dirt covering the floor, the tables, even the drinking glasses, was still plain to see. And the smell…well, Rodolphus actually fainted because of it. At least fifteen terrifying, humongous bikers all stared with bewilderment and fury at the tiny, pale, noseless man in a leather jacket now standing in the doorway.

"Oh my," said Voldemort, not fearfully, but with simple curiosity. "What a quaint little pub!" He now spoke loudly, in a voice that had always instilled fear in his servants and pronounced him to be a figure of great authority: "Greetings, my fellow motor bicycling brethren! I am the Dark Lord Voldemort, feared above all in the wizarding world, and you all are subject to my every desire! Anyone who dares question me will have my Purple Roadmonkeys to answer to. My first request is that you grant me access to your loo."

The bikers' eyes widened with astonishment. All were still.

"…Now!" said the Dark Lord, for he was not accustomed to waiting for what he wanted.

The largest of the most intimidating bikers stepped forward with rage in his dark eyes. "Who…do…you…think…you…are?" he grunted, breathing heavily in his fury.

"Why, good sir, I believe I just told you! Are you deaf, or are you simply unintelligent?"

The biker threw a punch, knocking Voldemort backward and leaving him with a bloody…um…space where his nose had been.

"You have made forceful physical contact with the Dark Lord!" he shouted. "That is not acceptable!"

"Oh, Voldypoo!" cried Bellatrix, rushing to his side. "Your beautiful slits are bleeding!"

Voldemort wiped the blood off his face and stood up. "It's all right, Bella, it's only a flesh wound…."

"No! You're _hurt_!" She was sobbing hysterically.

"Bella, please, you're embarrassing me in front of my motor bicycling brethren!"

The aforementioned "motor bicycling brethren" were now in a fit of laughter.

"Oh, did we upset your lady friend?" taunted the largest man, causing the other bikers to burst out laughing even harder.

But their amusement was over the moment they saw the murderous look on Bellatrix's face. She stared them down, her fists clenched and almost hyperventilating.

"No…one…hurts…my…VOLDYPOO!"

She grabbed a bottle and struck it hard against a nearby table, but it failed to break. She tried again, but to no avail. Giving up, she tossed the plastic Pepsi bottle aside and picked up a glass one. Beer and broken glass flew in all directions as the bottle shattered in half against the wooden table. This was clearly going to get ugly.

But then Wormtail stepped between Bellatrix and the biker. "Alright, everyone…let's all be cool, OK?" He approached the biker, looking smooth and confident. "Yo, dude." He lifted up his sleeve to reveal his Dark Mark. "Check the pimpin' tat!"

Wormtail looked utterly shocked when he was thrown across the room, as if he was unable to comprehend how his brilliant attempt at looking cool could have possibly failed. Every Death Eater in the bar was regretting leaving their wands behind, and they were terrified at the thought of what Bellatrix could be getting them into.

She was still shaking with anger as she slowly advanced on the humongous biker, who was staring intensely at her as if ready for a fight.

Suddenly, the door was opened. All heads turned toward the source of the voice that now echoed throughout the room. "Now, Cousin Bubba, you know better than ta go off causin' trouble! Besides, these here are mah friends! Leave 'em be!"

Voldemort couldn't believe what he was seeing. There was a very familiar man standing in the doorway, his dirty blonde hair frazzled just as it had always been. He wore a leather jacket and a trucker cap. "Earl?" asked Voldemort, astonished.

"Howdy thar, No Nose," replied the man with a wink.

Voldemort had met Earl, an overly friendly hillbilly, on his most recent beach trip. It was because of Earl, in fact, that the Dark Lord went grizzly wrestling (and it would be a great understatement to say that that did not go well). Although he had befriended this country bumpkin, Voldemort wished with all his heart to never see him again…a wish that, clearly, wasn't meant to come true. Everyone remembered Earl and his incredibly large family; Bellatrix dropped the broken bottle, too shocked to feel angry anymore.

The biker took a step backward. "I'm sorry, Cousin Earl. I didn't know."

"That's arright, cuz." Earl turned to Voldemort. "Y'all can leave now. Come along with me."

"Well, um…," stuttered Wormtail. "I…I think first, my master needs to visit the, um, loo…."

"No," replied a much shaken Voldemort. "Not anymore."

They all gladly followed Earl out of the bar, and what they found in the parking lot astonished them. There were at least twenty hillbillies waving cheerily at them from their old, shabby-looking motorcycles. They wore bandanas and leather jackets, and they all looked exceedingly pleased to see the Death Eaters.

"Oh wow," said Voldemort awkwardly. "Earl, _you_ have a motor bicycling gang?"

Earl laughed haughtily. "Is _that_ what cha call it, No Nose?"

"Well, of course!"

"You haven't changed a bit…but, yeah, I got me a gang. We're ac-shully purdy ruh-spec-tuh-bul round these parts. That big feller in thuh bar? Well, folks like him know not ta mess with me or mah fam'ly here!"

A chubby woman with heavy makeup and a blond beehive hairdo jumped up and down with excitement and shouted happily. "Bell! Hey, Bell! Lookie here! Hey!"

_Oh no_, thought Bellatrix. Lord Voldemort wasn't the only one who had made "friends" last year. "Er…Hi, Luann…," she mumbled half-heartedly.

Luann rushed up to Bellatrix and embraced her tightly. "How've ya been, Bell? Oh, I missed ya so much! We had so much fun last year. Ya know yer mah best friend, and it just gets so lonely at tha shack, with no one ta talk to but mah twenty-one kids and all them cuzzins a mine. Oh, it's great ta see ya!" She babbled on and on.

_Oh, what did I do to deserve this?_ Bellatrix wondered. _Was it that postcard I stole from the souvenir shop? Or maybe it was all those people I killed…._

"…and, oh, it's just no fun shoppin' without no friends," continued Luann. "Hey, I like them ear-rangs ya got on, Bell. I reckon pink would look better on ya, but, y'know…black skulls are arright, too. 'Member when I pierced yer ears fur ya last year?"

"Of course I do…." She very clearly remembered being chased down and forcefully stabbed in both ears. But, she had to admit, the black skulls were rather menacing….

"So how've ya been likin' yer new pierced ears?"

"Oh, it's been great…and it only took a few months for the painful infection to go away…."

"Well, that's great!" She gasped. "Oh…mah…garsh! Bell, I just done had the best ideer!"

"Did you now?" This couldn't be good.

"Why doncha come back ta thuh shack with all a us and spend a week er two?"

"No, I can't!"

"Well why doncha ask ol' No Nose just ta make sure?"

"Oh, fine…. Hey, Voldypoo?"

"…Yes?" squeaked Voldemort, who was currently trapped in a suffocating hug by a large, sweaty relative of Earl's.

"Um, Luann just invited me to stay at their house for a while…but I can't go, can I?" She tried desperately to convey in her tone just how miserable she would be if the offer were accepted, and there was a pleading look in her eyes.

"Actually," replied Voldemort with a smirk, having finally broken free of the hillbilly's grasp, "I think it's a splendid idea!"

"But, My Lord," pleaded Bellatrix, raising her voice, "are you sure there isn't _some_ reason I can't go?" She gave a wink.

He grinned evilly. "Nope."

Bellatrix pouted and sulked back over to Luann. _How did he not get the point?_ she thought miserably. _I thought I was being pretty obvious!_

"Well, No Nose," said Earl regretfully, "it's been great seein' ya, but we better get goin' buh-fore we miss supper! It's a right shame we can't hang out more, huh?"

"Yes…it's terrible."

"Well, maybe next time!" He hopped on his bike. "See y'all later!"

Voldemort sighed with relief. "Goodbye, Earl!"

"And don't worry—we'll take great care of Bell!"

"You do that."

Bellatrix waved gloomily from her bike. She had never looked more miserable in her life.

As they sped off, Voldemort skipped happily to his own bike. "I suppose we should all set off as well. This is the best holiday _ever_!"


	5. Worse Than Azkaban

The Dark Lord felt incredibly free as he and his gang rode farther and farther away from the bar. "No Bellatrix," he whispered to himself, as he had been doing for the past half hour. He never seemed to tire of reminding himself that his perverted stalker was not around to pester him anymore.

The other Death Eaters all seemed a bit happier as well, save for Rodolphus. He actually missed her terribly, not that anyone cared.

Suddenly, a bright green light flew past Voldemort's head. Missing him by inches, it collided instead with a rabbit on the side of the road. The Death Eaters turned their heads in shock to see the tiny animal drop dead.

The source of the light became clear at once, as another motorcycle now followed close behind them, ridden by a figure wearing a black cloak. From the sleeve of the figure's cloak shot another killing curse, which would have hit Voldemort had he not ducked just in time.

Rodolphus glanced at Lucius, who nodded his head in reply. The two then maneuvered their bikes so that Lucius rode parallel to, and Rodolphus directly in front of, the cloaked wizard. Lucius drew closer to the stranger's bike, while Rodolphus blocked the rider as he tried to escape. Their plan worked; the mysterious biker was forced off the road and down a steep hill.

The Death Eaters stopped their bikes. "Who…the…_crap_…was…_that_?" said a panicked Voldemort.

"I don't know, My Lord," replied Lucius. "It could have been just about anybody. Perhaps it was one of those 'drive-by Avadas?'"

"Oh yeah. Those are fun." Voldemort smiled, but his expression almost instantly became grave again. "But whoever that was seemed intent on killing _me_ and me alone. If it were simply a drive-by, he wouldn't have cared who he hit!" Suddenly, he began to cry. "Oh, _why_ does this person want to kill me? I'm a Dark Lord…. Dark Lords aren't supposed to die…."

"Do you suppose this was part of some conspiracy made by the Potter brat?"

"That is possible…. You know, I've never gotten a good 'vibe' from that kid!"

"Master!" called Wormtail. "The rider dropped something!"

Voldemort dismounted his bike and rushed over to Wormtail, followed by all his curious servants. "What is it?"

"It's a handkerchief…and there's something sewn on it! It says, 'Grr….'"

"That's not 'grr," you idiot! It's the initials G.R."

"G.R.? Who could that be?"

At this point no one noticed Voldemort's favorite horcrux. The teddy bear, Mr. Happysmileyman, gazed with interest at the scene before him. Upon receiving a fragment of the Dark Lord's soul, the bear also became quite malicious, and it had long been his dream to murder his owner (of course he was unaware of the other horcruxes). He almost succeeded once, and had been on his best behavior ever since, so as to avoid further suspicion. It pleased him greatly now to learn that someone shared with him this common goal. An intense desire to meet this dark wizard overcame him, for together, they would be truly unstoppable….

"Oh, Mr. Happysmilyman, give me a hug!" cried Voldemort. "Daddy loves you!"

_Enjoy that hug, fool,_ thought the evil bear. _It may be your last!_

* * *

"Home, sweet home!" said Luann, slamming the ragged screen door behind her.

Bellatrix grimaced. The house was just as she remembered it: cluttered and mismatched, with dust covering every surface. They now stood in the living room, which seemed hardly fit to live in. The furniture consisted of old lawn chairs, oversized bean bags, and one filthy-looking couch with a faded floral pattern. In a corner sat an old toilet that no longer worked; it was now filled with flowers to serve as some sort of décor.

"Where do I put my stuff?" grumbled Bellatrix miserably.

"Follah me, an' I'll show ya. It's right down tha hall. You'll be sharin' a room with mah little gals!"

Bellatrix's eyes grew wide. "How many daughters do you have?"

"Just six!"

"In one room?"

"Well, a course! What, did ya think we just stuff 'em in tha hall 'er somethin'? We're a bit more civ-uh-lized than that, Bell."

They walked through the doorway into the girls' room; there was no door on the hinges. The room was probably big enough to comfortably fit one or two kids, but six small beds were crammed together, two against each wall, with three small dressers somehow squeezed between them. A shabby-looking old mattress sat in the middle of the room; it was ripped in several places and various stains covered every surface. The floor could hardly be seen, as most of it was covered with the children's toys, carelessly scattered in all directions.

"This here's yer bed, Bell!" said Luann, pointing to the mattress. "I done cleaned it up real nice fer ya!"

_And I thought it couldn't get any worse than last year's motel room,_ thought Bellatrix. "It's great, Luann."

"Oh, I knew ye'd like it!"

Bellatrix dropped her pack on the mattress and sighed. "So now what?" She was terrified of the answer, but thought she might as well ask anyway.

"Well, why don't cha help me water tha garden?"

"Oh. Well, alright." Watering a garden? That couldn't be too bad….

* * *

Bellatrix stared at the vast expanse of green before her. "HOW BIG IS THIS FREAKING GARDEN, LUANN?"

"Oh, I ain't good with no measurements. It's purdy dang big, though. But don't worry—we got us some right good ir-ruh-gay-shun duh-vices!"

Bellatrix heaved a sigh of relief. "Good…where are they?"

Luann held up two tiny watering cans. "Right here! And when ya run outta water, all ya have ta do is fill 'er up right ova thar!" She pointed at a small well; it was on the other side of the shack…far away.

"Why do you even need all this?" Bellatrix was obviously desperate now.

"We're farmers, Bell! Didn't cha know? We gotta make money somehow or we wouldn't be able ta live so lavishly!"

Bellatrix groaned, but began her work. _They never made me do this in Azkaban,_ she thought to herself.

She labored miserably for hours, but before she had even finished a quarter of her work, Luann was already halfway done. Eventually, Luann finished Bella's work for her, all the while making such comments as "Ya did great fer yer first try," and "You'll do much better tuh-morrow!"

Finally, they were done; Bellatrix was panting and could hardly stand up, while Luann looked as if she had never felt better.

"Well, would ya look at tha time!" exclaimed Luann, glancing up at the sun. "It must be about six-thirty now! I'd normally be in bed by now, but you an' me 'er gonna stay up real late tellin' ghost stories and doin' each other's hair an' makeup! Heck, we may even stay up till eight 'o' clock!"

"You know, actually, I'm really exhausted from watering plants all day, so I think I'll—" But Luann had dragged her away before she could finish her sentence.

* * *

"YOU NO EAT MUCH, NAGINI." Olga had already finished off half the food in the Malfoy's incredibly large refrigerator.

"_I've been thinking,"_ replied the snake in a low hiss.

"ABOUT FOOD?"

"_No…about revenge. I want to get back at my master."_

"WHY?"

Nagini hissed angrily, baring her fangs. "_When you're locked in a small closet for months, having no entertainment but an old mp3 player with nothing but _Before He Cheats_ recorded on it, you start to get pretty spiteful after a while."_

Olga gulped down the last of Narcissa's homemade soup and tossed the bowl aside. It crashed to pieces against a wall, but she didn't seem to notice. "WHAT WE DO, THEN?"

Nagini looked around, absorbing every detail of the lush, regal dining room. _"I say we trash this place."_

"YOU WANT OLGA SMASH MORE FINE CHINA?"

Nagini considered this offer. Suddenly, her hideous mouth curled up into something like a smile. _"No…let's throw a party! A really wild party…this will be fun."_

"WHO WE INVITE?"

"_Hmm…."_ Nagini smiled again and slithered over to Olga, then whispered something into her ear.

"OK." Olga picked up a nearby telephone (which the Malfoys would never admit to owning, but used regularly) and dialed.

It rang three times before a voice answered, "Hello?"

Olga grinned. "THIS ORDER OF PHOENIX HEADQUARTERS?"

* * *

"Arright!" said Luann excitedly, holding a large Wal-Mart bag full of her makeup. "Go warsh all that dark makeup off ya face and I'll make ya look sexy!"

"_Wash_ my face?" This took Bellatrix by surprise; washing her face was not part of her usual bedtime routine. She couldn't imagine going to sleep without her black eyeliner on….

"Well, yeah! Trust me, Bell, this makeup is gonna look so much better on you than that ol' goth crap!"

Reluctantly, Bellatrix did as she was told, and returned to find an assortment of bright pink makeup waiting for her. She refused the mirror she was given when Luann had finished, for Luann's delighted expression was confirmation enough that she looked terrible. _They never did THIS in Azkaban, either!_

"Oh, Bell, you look just like a Barbie doll! …Except fer that hair. My goodness, ya look like ya done been in a tor-nay-der or somethin'!"

Bellatrix gasped. "No! My unkempt hair is my trademark!"

Luann looked befuddled. "You _traded_ fer that hair? I hate ta tell ya, Bell, but I'm purdy sure ya got screwed on that deal!"

"No, I didn't trade for it…it's my _trademark!_"

"I ain't followin' ya here, Bell."

"It's my signature 'do!"

"…Wha?"

This was impossible. With a sigh of defeat, Bellatrix handed Luann a comb. "I'm going to turn my head," she said with a sob, "and you do what you have to do."

Sifting through the tangles in Bellatrix's hair proved much more difficult than Luann had ever imagined. She broke three combs in the process, one of which made out of a so-called "unbreakable" type of plastic. Even using conditioner, she accomplished nothing. By this time it was eight-thirty, and Luann was tired. Giving up, she placed a sparkly pink barrette in Bellatrix's still chaotic hair and said good-night.

Bellatrix tiptoed into her bedroom to avoid waking the kids, but found there were no kids to wake. "A fine mother she is," she mumbled to herself. "Doesn't even bother putting her children to bed…. Why, when Voldemort and I have kids, they'll know to do _what_ I say, _when_ I say!"

Still mumbling incoherently and swearing under her breath, she lie down on the lumpy mattress and fell asleep.

But this moment of peace was not meant to last long. "WHEE!" screamed the six little girls, dashing into the room and beginning to jump up and down on their beds.

Bellatrix woke with a start. "Are you all insane? Stop it!" The kids ignored her, still screeching as they chased each other around the room and jumped on their mattresses.

"Hey, wait! Stop! Quiet down! No, listen to me…wait! SHUT UP!" she roared furiously.

"Hey, Bell's here!" shouted one of the girls excitedly, finally noticing her.

"Yay!" they all screamed.

"You know," said Bellatrix so loudly that she was almost shouting, "when I was your age, we addressed adults by saying 'mister' or 'misses'!"

The youngest girl, her bleach blond hair up in pigtails, giggled. "Whatever you say, Mister!"

It wasn't until ten 'o' clock that the children calmed down and finally fell asleep. Sleep evaded Bellatrix, however; she was just too angry. After much thought and consideration, she had concluded that this place was worse than Azkaban, and that she would rather face the Dementors again than stay another night.

And then it hit her. _If I can escape from Azkaban,_ she thought, _surely I can escape from here!_ So she gathered her things and silently tiptoed out the front door, being careful not to let the ragged screen door slam behind her.

The loud roar that echoed from her bike as she started it was inevitable; she rode off quickly, fearing that she might have been heard. Confidence returned to her as the dilapidated shack disappeared behind a line of trees.

Suddenly, she heard something. She slowed down and listened carefully; the sound, which she could now define as some kind of music, seemed to grow louder. Realization struck her, and she gasped. "Oh crap…BANJOS! The chase is on!"

She desperately sped up; the trees on either side of her flashed by so quickly, they were almost a blur. The banjo music only grew louder. "Those dang hillbillies are _fast_!" she exclaimed.

But then she found her salvation, in the form of a humongous tree. It had to be over a hundred years old…and big enough to hide a motorcycle behind it. She made a sharp turn to the right, parked her bike, and waited.

She dared not peek, but she could hear the banjo music only a few feet away from her. Then it stopped.

"Oh, I don't even hear her bike anymore, Earl!" exclaimed an obnoxiously loud female voice that could only belong to Luann.

"She could be anywhere by now, hon."

"Aww…well, that's a right shame. I was gonna teach her how ta cook possum tuh-morrow!"

Bellatrix was too terrified to even breathe.

"I reckon tha kids musta scared her off," said Earl regretfully. "I told ya we shoulda let her sleep on tha cowch!"

"Oh, I reckon so. I'll know next time! Come on, let's go home."

Bellatrix didn't move until the roar of their truck's engine had long faded away. She was now determined to find Lord Voldemort and her fellow Death Eaters, but at the moment there was one higher priority to attend to. She cackled madly as she liberally applied her favorite black eyeliner, feeling freer than she had ever felt in her life.

**A/N: OK, just for the record...I didn't make up the toilet thing. I've actually seen people do that. Who knew old toilets made good flower pots?  
**


	6. Thank Merlin For Hot Topic

The Death Eaters were now a fair distance away from the site of the recent murder attempt. Voldemort looked over his shoulder every five seconds as he rode on, causing his servants to worry that he might have become paranoid.

His eyes grew wide when he finally noticed another bike slowly approaching from behind. He relaxed a bit when he noticed the long, wild hair rippling in the wind behind the rider, for this was not a feature of the mysterious G.R. But then, as realization struck him, he gasped.

"It's Bella! Ride faster!"

They sped up in a futile attempt at escape; within minutes Bellatrix was riding alongside them.

"Hello, Voldypoo!" she called. "Did you miss me?"

"Oh, terribly….," came the Dark Lord's halfhearted reply.

"I missed you, honey!" exclaimed Rodolphus, speeding up to ride alongside his wife.

"You know, Rodolphus," replied Bellatrix with a smile, "after being in that crap-hole for a day, I'm almost happy to see you, too!"

"Oh, Bella, I love—"

"Woah, hold on there, Hot Rod! I said _almost_."

Rodolphus sighed. "Yes, dear…."

"So, Voldykins, what did I miss?"

"Um…well, nothing much, really…."

"My Lord," interrupted Lucius, "we've seen no sign of G.R. for quite a while now. Perhaps it would be a good idea to stop now, just long enough to explain?"

"Well…alright. But if I die because of this, Lucius, I'll kill you!"

So the Death Eaters all parked their bikes on the side of the road and Voldemort began his account of the terrible events that had occurred, explaining with great detail the extent of his trauma.

"…And then, when we _finally_ found a bathroom, we set off again, and a cloaked wizard showed up…"

Then he told the even more terrifying tale of his near-death experience.

"Oh…Voldypoo…." Bellatrix was at a loss for words; her mouth hung open in shock. Then, suddenly, her shock turned to rage. "I will _kill_ this person! I don't know who he is, but he will die a slow and painful death, I swear he will!"

"Bella, we haven't seen a trace of him since the attack. There's not much you can do right now."

"Oh, don't worry, Voldypoo…I'll find him!"

_And so will I_, thought Mr. Happysmileyman to himself. The teddy bear was still sitting on Voldemort's motorcycle, a determined look on his tiny face. _But not for the same reason…. G.R. and I shall make an unstoppable team, and we'll finish Voldemort once and for all! And while we're at it, we'll take care of Rodolphus Lestrange as well. Then, when I rule the world, Bellatrix shall be my queen! Muahahahahaha!_

"…Well, I suppose we should hit the road again." Voldemort mounted his bike; Mr. Happysmileyman's face was once again frozen into its usual smile.

* * *

They were nearing a large city. The traffic was becoming heavier, and various advertisements lined the streets. One sign in particular caught Voldemort's eye.

"Hmm…they have a mall here! What do you say, guys, shall we stop?"

"YES!" shouted the Death Eaters excitedly, and they drove a bit faster now.

They were all mesmerized at the size of the place when they pulled into the parking lot. The inside was even more promising; they could see at least twenty stores just from the entrance.

Bellatrix and Narcissa looked at each other, both thinking the same thing. "SHOPPING!"

All the Death Eaters laughed and whispered excitedly to one another. That is, except for Snape.

"Snape, we're at huge, luxurious mall! Would it kill you to be a little enthusiastic?" asked Voldemort.

"Yes…."

"Oh, come on, Snapeadoodle…it's been almost twenty years since I killed your lady friend. Get over it already and let's go get some smoothies at the food court!"

The Death Eaters cheered, "Yay! Smoothies!"

Snape sighed. "Lily used to like smoothies…."

"Yes, well…she doesn't anymore, now does she? Come on, buddy…who likes strawberry?"

"My Lord, I'm not in the mood—"

"Who likes strawberry, Sev?"

Looking at the floor, Snape grunted, "Me…."

"Excellent!" Grabbing Snape by the arm, Voldemort took off at a run to the food court, which was exceedingly large and had a diverse selection of restaurants and foods.

Five Muggles were already lined up in front of the Orange Julius, but upon noticing the odd-looking group of bikers heading their way, they all decided at once that Starbucks would be a better idea.

Taking his place at the front of the line, Voldemort ordered a large mango smoothie for himself and an extra large strawberry smoothie for Snape. The other Death Eaters were next in line, and when everyone had their drinks, they sat down at the biggest table they could find (which was coincidentally occupied when they first found it, but did not stay that way).

Most of them gulped down their smoothies rather quickly, as they were unaccustomed to such luxuries. Wormtail had finished his within ten seconds of sitting down; he had served quite a few smoothies to his Master over the years, but was rarely allowed to enjoy one himself. Snape only took small sips of his drink every now and then, enjoying the taste but wanting nothing more than to escape the idiotic hype and the deafening loudness of the Muggle mall.

Bellatrix giggled about nothing in particular, bouncing up and down in her seat with her empty cup on the table in front of her. Ordinarily, she would not be allowed any sugar whatsoever, but today was a special occasion. However, Voldemort regretted giving it to her as soon as she took the first sip. Her giggle soon became a high-pitched laugh; she was obviously close to shouting.

It was then that Voldemort decided he wanted Bellatrix to be nowhere near him when her sugar-high reached its peak. He had to act now. "Um, Bella, I think I saw a Hot Topic over there."

"HOT TOPIC!" she screeched, jumping out of her seat and dashing in the direction Voldemort had pointed.

"Nice one, Master," said Wormtail.

Voldemort sighed with relief. "Thank Merlin for Hot Topic!"

"You know," said Snape dully, "I think I'll tag along." Although he did not relish the idea of being within ten feet of Bellatrix during one of her "explosions," he needed a little darkness at the moment, and Hot Topic was sure to provide.

The sound of Bella's senseless and obnoxiously loud ramblings lead him straight to the store. "Hot Topic, Hot Topic, Hot Topic, Hot Topic, Hot Topic, Hot Topic, Hot Topic," she chanted as she ran around in circles. "Hey, customer lady, guess where we are? HOT TOPIC!"

Said "customer lady" did not remain in Hot Topic for long.

"Hot Topic, Hot Topic, Hot Topic...OH MY GOSH, PEOPLE! I AM SO GONNA BUY THIS SHIRT! LOOK AT IT! IT'S SO FRIGGIN' _GOTH!_ I SAID _LOOK AT IT_, PEOPLE!"

The cashier, a tall young woman with dark makeup, various piercings, and shortly cropped, bright red hair looked at Bellatrix nervously. She obviously didn't expect _this_ when she signed up for the job, and she frantically contemplated how to handle the situation.

Snape noticed her panicked expression, and for some reason he could not comprehend, felt a powerful urge to help her. "Bella!" he called. "I think I saw a shirt that would suit you even better in…um…" Where the crap did deranged lunatics shop these days? "…Sears?"

"SEARS!" shouted Bellatrix, gone from the store in a flash.

The cashier heaved a sigh of relief. "Hey, thanks."

Snape shrugged. "Yeah, well…I work with her, so I'm kind of used to that sort of thing."

"Oh, I pity you."

"So do I…but that's how it goes. Life sucks, and then you die." She was a complete stranger and a Muggle…why was he still talking to her? He couldn't figure it out.

"I know what you mean. My name's Jessie, by the way."

"Severus.… Hey, what are you snickering at?"

"Nothing…it's just…what kind of a name is _Severus_?"

"What kind of a name is _Jessie_?"

They both scowled at each other jokingly, and an awkward silence followed.

"Your hair is interesting," said Snape at last. He had always had a thing for red hair, and hers was the most vibrant he had ever seen.

"I was going for a Hayley Williams sort of look. Ever heard of Paramore?"

"I'm not really into…music." The conversation was beginning to bring back certain memories from the disco era which Snape normally tried to repress.

Noticing the disgust in his tone, Jessie changed the subject. "So what brings you here? I haven't seen you around."

"I'm on a motorcycle trip with my…um…friends." He turned to glance toward the food court; Voldemort was giving him the "rock on" sign.

"You don't seem like a biker."

"Yeah, well…neither do _they_." He gestured toward the Death Eaters, who were currently goofing around and dancing to the music that was playing.

Jessie chuckled. "Is that noseless guy trying to do the Soulja Boy or something?"

Snape glanced back again and sighed. "I'm afraid so…."

"Don't you just hate it when people think they're all cool?"

"Oh yes."

An earsplitting scream echoed from the other side of the mall, where Sears was located. "WHERE THE CRAP IS THAT SHIRT?"

Jessie cringed. "No offense, but I really hate your friend."

"Me, too."

The Death Eaters were beginning to leave the food court, and Voldemort gestured for Snape to join them.

"Well, it was nice talking to you."

He started to leave, but Jessie said, "Hey, wait."

"What?"

She handed him a small piece of paper. "That's my number, Severus. Call me sometime."

He sighed and placed the paper in a pocket of his robes. "If I must," he replied jokingly.

Voldemort looked incredulous when Snape met up with him. "Dude, what took you so long, and why were you talking to that girl?"

"She hates the same crap that I hate," he replied with a shrug.

And then Voldemort witnessed something that he had never seen, nor expected to see as long as he lived.

Snape smiled.


	7. GR Strikes Again

Two hours had passed in the Muggle mall, but it seemed to Snape like an eternity as he followed his "best friend" Voldemort to store after store after store…each more ridiculously over hyped than the last. Every piece of clothing seemed horrendous to Snape; he could not fathom what kind of bubble-headed ignoramus would actually consider wearing any of it. That is, until the Dark Lord approached him carrying an armload of the hideous Muggle apparel and beckoned for Snape to follow him to the dressing rooms.

Of course he reluctantly obeyed, waiting impatiently outside the door as his Master tried on every bit of clothing he had dragged along with him.

"Look at this, Snape!" said Voldemort excitedly, emerging from the dressing room to model yet another hideous shirt. "It's a t-shirt…but it looks like a tuxedo! Genius!"

For over a half hour he heard many pointless comments such as this one, and was often forced to give his own opinions of his Master's choices. "Do I look fat in this?" was the most common question he was subject to answer. And when Voldemort was finally done, it was on to the next store…and the next. At times poor Snape felt as if he might explode, but thinking of Jessie helped him to carry on.

But the monotony would soon be broken, in a way that no one expected.

As Voldemort ecstatically made his way toward Abercrombie & Fitch, Snape happened to glance up at the second floor of the mall. A dark figure stared down from directly above them, face hidden by a long, flowing cloak.

Snape ran for his life as a flash of green light flew past Voldemort, barely missing him.

"It's G.R.!" cried Voldemort. "Someone save me! I'm too young and sexy to die!"

…Actually, I suppose that _was_ to be expected, wasn't it? The title of this chapter pretty much gave it away…but I digress.

A large section of the sleek marble floor was blown to pieces as another spell zoomed past. Muggles ran screaming in all directions, clueless as to what the mysterious green flashes were, but smart enough to know that bizarre explosions and shouting noseless men were never good signs.

Voldemort was now cowering in a corner, clutching Mr. Happysmileyman in his trembling arms and ducking his head to avoid getting hit. "Merlin, are you there?" he mumbled desperately under his breath. "It's me…Voldemort. I'm not normally a praying man, but this son of a banshee is trying to kill me, and it would just be super if you could smite him or something. Smiteth him real good. Amen…." He glanced up to find the dark figure pointing a wand directly at him. He knew the next spell was bound to be a direct hit. "Now would be a good time for smiting!!!" he shouted toward the sky. But his efforts appeared to be for naught, until…

"NOT MY VOLDYPOO, YOU %$#&$!!!"

Voldemort looked on in shock as Bellatrix, furious and still obviously on a sugar-high, tackled G.R. to the floor and proceeded to punch and kick him mercilessly, making sure to utilize her most colorful vocabulary all the while. Voldemort's eyes grew wide; he didn't even recognize half of the swear words she used.

"_Avada...," _ the murderer growled. His voice was deep and raspy, and sounded almost inhuman, as if it had been altered by some spell.

But just before he could complete the deadly incantation, his wand slipped from his grasp, for Bellatrix had jerked his arm in front of him and, with great force, bit it. Although petrified with shock and fear, Voldemort couldn't help but admire her unquestionable ability to cause severe physical pain even without a wand (or any weapon whatsoever, for that matter).

No one noticed Mr. Happysmileyman's anguished cries. "Why, Bella, why?"

But the malevolent G.R. had not given up just yet; the unexpected attack had only made him angrier. With all his strength, he shoved Bellatrix away from him and scrambled for his wand. She jumped up at once and grabbed him by the leg, and the battle continued.

Emerging from his frozen stupor, Voldemort frantically pulled up his sleeve and pressed his index finger to the Dark Mark on his arm. Death Eaters began to materialize all across the second floor, and were more than inclined to join the fight.

Mr. Happysmileyman then slipped from Voldemort's grasp, knowing his master was too absorbed in the epic battle above to notice. "Don't give up, G.R.," mumbled the bear to himself. "It's not over just yet!"

Little did he know that G.R. _did_ give up, and Apparated away just seconds after the homicidal plush toy had gone.

"I shall build up an army!" screamed Mr. Happysmileyman, running as fast as his tiny legs could take him to the mall's Build-a-Bear Workshop. "Greetings, my soft, downy brethren!" he shouted once inside. "I am the Dark Lord Evilfrowneyman, and I am in great need of your service. With your help, we shall fight alongside the great G.R. and conquer the world! WHO'S WITH ME?"

"How did this get here?" said a saleslady dully, picking up Mr. Happysmileyman and taking him away.

"No! Put me down, you fiend! Release me at once, I say!"

"Rowdy kids…," she mumbled, "always knocking things off the shelves…."

"Shelves? What shelves? I'm afraid of heights…noooooo!"

* * *

By this time Snape was at the other end of the mall, so far away that none of the commotion could be heard (yes, the mall was that big!). He was dedicated to keeping up appearances around the Death Eaters, but he knew that, given the current situation, Voldemort would be too terrified to notice him running. He knew quite well of the Dark Lord's horcruxes, but still couldn't help feeling slightly cheerful over the possibility of his master's murder.

Then his thoughts returned to his own situation upon noticing the crumpled-up piece of paper he held tightly in his hand—Jessie's phone number. He must have been holding it the entire time he was running. He sighed.

Then, realization struck him. "Oh crap…I don't have a phone!" He looked around frantically. "Oh, thank Merlin!" There was a large display of cell phones only a few feet away.

"Why, hello, my good sir!" said the sleazy-looking salesman managing the stand, his short black hair slicked back with what appeared to be at least a gallon of hair gel.

"Yes, hello…," replied Snape. "I was hoping to purchase one of your 'cellular telephones.'"

The smile on the salesman's face made it clear that there was only one thought going through his mind at that moment: _paydirt_.

Snape continued, "I know very little of electronics in general, but I met this…intriguing young woman, and she gave me her number…."

The salesman's smile grew wider. _Major_ paydirt. "It sounds to me like you need the finest phone there is!" he said excitedly, grabbing the most expensive phone in stock.

Snape examined the phone…and its price tag. "Um…that's a bit outside my price range…."

"You can't put a price on quality, my friend! Besides…every lady loves a man with a great phone!"

"Really?"

"Oh, yes."

"Well…this phone will always be the greatest ever, right? No other shall top it as long as I live?"

"Um…yes, of course!"

Snape sighed and reluctantly handed the man his credit card. "Charge it."

"Woah, hold on there, pal! You can't just walk away without buying a cover for that new phone of yours! Wouldn't want it to get dirty, would you?"

"Why, of course not!"

"You're a smart man!" He quickly compared the prices of all the cell phone covers behind the counter and grabbed up the most pricy. "This one should suit you perfectly!"

Snape raised his eyebrows. "It's got a picture of Hello Kitty on it…."

"Er…yes…but as you can see here, it's decorated with real diamonds…a sophisticated look for a sophisticated young fellow such as yourself!"

"Those look like rhinestones."

"Oh no, they're diamonds."

"…And you're sure women are into these kinds of things?"

"Sir, I would never lie about something like this; you can count on that."

"Well…you _do_ have an honest face…and I _do_ like your hair…. OK, add this to my fee."

"Excellent. Will that be all?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"Great, so I'll just bag that up for you…. Oh my, I completely forgot!"

"What?"

"Sir, I must apologize…. See, I was about to let you walk away without buying one of these fabulous charms for your phone! Wouldn't that have been terrible?"

"I see…and these are necessary?"

"Oh, absolutely! It would be quite embarrassing walking around with this brand new phone and its beautiful rhine…I mean, diamond cover, and have no charm! I would never put you through that! Here, I'll just add this nice heart-shaped one to your bill…."

"Now just wait a minute! How much does it cost?"

"Sir, what did I say about putting a price on quality? You'll thank me later."

**Thirty minutes later…**

Snape walked away from the cell phone display, feeling quite satisfied and holding two large sacks, one in each hand.

"Such kindness!" he exclaimed. "For a Muggle, he really was all right…."

* * *

"What's the damage?" asked Voldemort, still shaking.

"Luckily no one's been killed," replied Lucius. "However, quite a few Muggles saw…and I'm pretty sure it scared the crap out of them."

"Most definitely, My Lord," said Narcissa, holding her husband's hand tightly as if fearing for his safety. "Just look at that poor old man over there…. He appears to be petrified with fear…."

The gray-haired old mustached man stood trembling, just inches from a large crater in the previously spotless marble floor. He threw a wallet at Voldemort, who promptly caught it. "I'm sorry, OK? Just take it back!" he screamed, grabbing his grandchildren and dashing out of the mall.

Voldemort laughed maniacally. "That's what you get, you blasted old fart!" Then, suddenly, he gasped. "Where's Mr. Happysmileyman?"

Lucius's eyes grew wide; his wife clutched his hand tighter. "I…I don't know, My Lord…."

"MR. HAPPYSMILEYMAN!" the Dark Lord screamed, running around frantically in search of his teddy bear.

"Help!" came a voice from the direction of Build-a-Bear Workshop. As much as he hated his master, Mr. Happysmileyman hated heights even more, and he was currently sitting on the highest shelf in the store.

Voldemort rushed to his aid and hugged him closely. "Oh, you scared me! I'm so glad I've found you! Now let's get out of here."

"Sir?" interrupted the cashier, a bored-looking teenager who was smacking on a piece of chewing gum. "You have to pay for that bear, you know."

"What? No, this bear is mine. I just lost him, that's all."

"I saw you take him off the shelf. If you try to leave, I'll call the cops."

"Fine…." Voldemort pulled his newly retrieved wallet from a pocket of his leather jacket, swearing under his breath as he did so. "How much?"

"Well, let's see…that seems to be one of our higher quality bears. Then you're getting the biker outfit and the sunglasses, too…. Oh, and the sound chip. Stupid thing wouldn't shut up…. I think that'll be five hundred dollars."

"FIVE…HUNDRED…DOLLARS? Wait a minute; I thought we were in Britain!"

"Are you trying to avoid paying, sir? Because I _do_ have the police on speed-dial."

"No, never mind.... Here." He reluctantly handed over the cash, caring too much for his bear to risk protesting any further. He couldn't help but wonder, however, why he had American currency in his possession.

"Have a special day!" said the cashier cheerily, flashing a fake smile.

"Yeah, bite me…," mumbled Voldemort under his breath, Mr. Happysmileyman clutched tightly in his arms as he left the store.

Then Snape approached him, having finally made his way back from the other end of the mall. "Hello, My Lord."

"Ah, Snape, it's good to see you survived. In the heat of the moment I failed to notice much, but I'm sure you fought nobly for me!"

"As I'd never fought before…."

"Excellent…I can always count on you. Now are you ready to hit the road? I believe I've had about enough of this mall."

"Um…well, actually…I was hoping we could stay in the area…a bit longer. If that's OK."

"This wouldn't have anything to do with that girl you met, would it?"

"I, um…yes, My Lord."

Voldemort chuckled. "I knew it! You've never been this cheerful, Snape! And I assume she's a pureblood?"

"Um…yes."

"Oh, wonderful! Although I find it more than a bit suspicious that she would work in a Muggle mall, I know you of all people would never lie to me. We'll set up camp right outside the city, and you may have your fun. …Just spare me the nauseating details of your experiences, alright?"

"Will do, My Lord."

**A/N: Be sure not to miss the next chapter…it will shock you! ^^**


	8. Keeping Up Appearances

They set up camp in a small clearing, located amidst a lush forest just outside the city limits. The only light besides the full moon and the stars twinkling overhead was the campfire that Snape had once again helped to ignite. Its flame swayed gently with the breeze, and crickets chirping in the background produced a serene effect. It was a perfectly peaceful night…well, almost.

"Sevvy's got a girlfriend, Sevvy's got a girlfriend, Sevvy's got a girlfriend…"

"Shut _up_, Bella!"

"Sevvy's got a girlfriend, Sevvy's got a girlfriend, Sevvy's—"

"Bella, I swear—"

"—got a girlfriend, Sevvy's got a girlfriend, Sevvy's got a girlfriend…"

"My Lord, may I please kill her?"

Voldemort sighed, massaging his head as if suffering from a migraine. "I'm sure we'd all like to do that, Severus, myself more than anyone…but she's simply too gifted a witch to dispose of at the moment. Besides, she _did_ just save my life. We'll kill her after we defeat the Order, alright?"

Bellatrix failed to hear a word of this, for she was still preoccupied with skipping in circles around Snape and mocking him in a loud, singsong voice.

"Fine…," groaned Snape, his fists clenched.

"You've been nervous all night," noted Voldemort. "Even _before_ Bella found the chocolate."

"CHOCOLATE!" screamed Bellatrix, jumping up and down. Then she promptly resumed her skipping.

Snape fidgeted anxiously with his hands. "Yes, well…I'm expecting a phone call."

Voldemort grinned. "Ooh, are you now?" He sounded like a hyper schoolgirl who had just heard a juicy bit of gossip.

"It's nothing of consequence, My Lord, I assure you. Jessie only said she would call me back, and—"

"Omigosh, she _said_ that?"

"…Yes, she did, and I was just waiting for… Wait, where's my cellular telephone?" He rummaged frantically through his pockets, but to no avail. "I swear I just had it! I…I know I did!"

"Are you accusing me of something, Severus?" said Voldemort a bit too quickly. "Because…er…I haven't taken it, if…if that's what you're thinking…."

Snape looked at him, his eyebrows raised. "My Lord?"

"Oh, fine…." Voldemort pulled Snape's phone out of his pocket and handed it over reluctantly. "I just couldn't resist…. Curiosity got the better of me. I mean, I was beginning to wonder why a pureblood witch would want to communicate using such an inferior Muggle contraption, but then I actually took a _look_ at the thing, and oh my badness…it's so awesome! It's got a keyboard, it's got a touch screen, it has friggin' _Bluetooth_… You rock, Sev. You simply rock."

"Er…thank you, My L—"

_I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped up four wheel drive…_

Snape jumped with shock and awkwardly flipped open the phone that was now ringing in his hand. Voldemort chuckled as he saw the dark glare Snape was giving him; he was _so_ dead for putting that ringtone on there…but of course he couldn't resist.

"H-hello?" Snape stuttered. "Oh, Jessie…how are you? Er…not that I care or anything…."

"Sevvy's got a girlfriend, Sevvy's got a girlfriend…"

"Shut up, Bella! No, not you, Jess…. I was talking to…yes, her. …I hate her, too. …What? Of course I'll come…I mean, I suppose I have nothing better to do."

"Oh…my…friggin'…_gosh_," whispered Voldemort to himself, almost on the verge of shrieking.

Bella, however, was _completely_ on the verge of shrieking. "SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!"

Snape cringed. "BELLA, I WILL _KILL_ YOU! I apologize, Jessie, she's had sugar again…."

"Sevvy's got a girlfriend, Sevvy's got a girlfriend, Sevvy's got a girlfriend…"

"…Wow, Jess, that's a very creative way of killing her. Thanks, I'll consider that."

"Sevvy's got a girlfriend, Sevvy's got a…WHAT?"

"…OK, so I'll meet you there…if I must. Goodbye." He hung up the phone and sighed deeply. Voldemort and Bellatrix were both staring at him, eyes wide. "What?" he asked, irritated.

"DETAILS!" shrieked Voldemort ecstatically. "What did she say? I want _exact_ words, Severus. And where are you going? Is it a date? Are you gonna kiss her?"

"And what about that whole 'killing me' thing?" added Bellatrix a bit nervously.

Snape sighed and answered as abruptly as possible, "We're meeting at this fancy French restaurant called _La Merde Sainte_ for dinner tonight, and I don't really care if it's a date or not; therefore I could also care less whether I kiss her. That's all. Goodnight." And before he could get any sort of reply, he stomped away to his tent.

"Wow," said Voldemort dreamily. "Just…wow…."

Bellatrix looked worried. "Seriously, what are they gonna do to me?"

* * *

Parking in front of _La Merde Sainte_, Snape dismounted his bike and nervously smoothed out his hair. Looking up, he saw that his date was already there, sitting on a bench in the small patio area just outside the front door. She was not dressed appropriately for a high-class dinner, wearing a red halter top, a black miniskirt, and fishnet leggings with tall, high-heeled boots. Snape guessed that this was on purpose.

"Well, look at you," he sneered with a false bitterness.

Jessie smirked in reply. "Combed your hair, did you?"

Snape scowled. "After you," he said, gesturing to the door.

A waiter was already there, ready to greet them. "_Bonjour, monsieur, mademoiselle,_" he said, although his accent was just as British as any of the Death Eaters'. "Table for two?"

"Yes, please," said Snape.

Jessie stood beside him, barely managing to contain a laugh. "So what's it like in France?" she asked once they were seated.

"Um…," said the waiter, "it's great. Quite lovely, really…parties all the time. So here are your menus, and I'll be back in a minute to take your orders."

As the two laughed at the poor ignorant waiter, someone else entered the restaurant: a pale man wearing an afro wig, a pair of Groucho Marx glasses, pajama pants, and a form-fitting T-shirt that said "Who needs brains when you've got these?" on the front. Spotting Snape and Jessie, the man quickly ducked and hid behind a nearby plant. He peeked between its leaves and listened carefully, absorbing every detail of their conversation.

"Alright, so let's hear a bit about you," said Jessie, a mischievous grin on her face. "Please, do enlighten me."

"Er…well, I'm a…schoolteacher."

"Oh wow, I'll bet the kids just _adore_ you." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"Actually," he replied arrogantly, "quite a few of my students are extremely fond of me." Draco in particular seemed to enjoy his classes more than anyone; it made Snape more than a bit concerned, not that he'd mention it to Jessie.

"Uh-huh…so how old are you anyway?"

"Thirty-seven."

"Well, I'm twenty-seven, you pervert," said Jessie playfully. She obviously didn't mind the age difference, and although he would have rather died a most painful death than admit it to himself at the time, neither did Snape.

The pale man stifled a chuckle from behind the large plant. "Holy crap, Sev!" he muttered under his breath.

Suddenly, he jumped in shock when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Hello, Voldypoo." Bellatrix was crouched down beside him, also disguised by the plant. She wore a baggy T-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, and her untamable black hair was pulled up in a side ponytail.

"Oh, Bella! You scared me. What the crap are you doing here?"

"I couldn't help but notice through my binoculars that you were coming to spy on Snape, so I thought I'd tag along and help."

"I'm not spying! I'm simply…observing."

Bella laughed. "Riiiiiiiight…."

"And what the crap are you wearing? Are you trying to look like a Muggle or something?"

"As a matter of fact, I am. Couldn't risk being discovered, could I?"

Voldemort smirked. "Been watching Napoleon Dynamite again, Bella?"

Bellatrix blushed. "Well, you're one to talk," she said, gesturing to his T-shirt. "My Lord…do you even know what "these" is referring to?"

"Magical skills?"

This made her laugh so loudly that Snape turned his head in their direction. Seeing only an oversized potted plant, he turned his attention back to his date.

"_This_ is why you should keep out of other people's business!" snapped Voldemort in a whisper.

Bellatrix was still giggling. "I'm sorry, OK? I'll be quiet."

And so the two "disguised" Death Eaters watched on in silence, Voldemort pushing Bellatrix away any time she got too close to him (which was often).

Meanwhile, Snape and Jessie were still deep in conversation. "So…," said Snape, "twenty-seven years old and working at Hot Topic…. I suppose this was your life's dream or something?"

"Ugh…I _hate_ the mall. Too many people…too many idiots."

"_Tell_ me about it…. I myself am surrounded by idiots twenty-four seven."

"Excuse me?" shrieked Bellatrix.

"Bella, shush!" snapped Voldemort, for Snape had once again glanced in their direction. "And keep your hands to yourself!"

"I write, actually," continued Jessie.

"Are you any good?" asked Snape jeeringly.

"I'm decent, I suppose…but every publishing company in the country seems to think otherwise."

"So you wrote an entire book?"

"Well, _obviously_," she replied in an almost perfect imitation of Snape. "It's called _Plunging into the Black Abyss._"

"Ah…real feel-good read, I take it?"

"Oh, shut up."

Voldemort and Bellatrix were so absorbed in the conversation that they failed to notice the waiter standing right behind them. "Can I help you two?"

"Oh!" exclaimed Voldemort, blushing. "I just…er…lost my contact lens…in this plant."

"We're not spies," added Bellatrix in a confident tone.

"Of course we're not," said Voldemort, glaring angrily at her. "We're…a young married couple."

Bellatrix grinned, a wild look in her eyes. "Oh yes, we most certainly are!"

"Yes…er…I'm Phil, and this is my scatterbrained but lovable wife Renee!"

"Um, Phil...," said Bellatrix, stifling a laugh, "did you happen to bring a certain _book_ with you on this trip?"

"That's none of your business, Renee."

"Right, well," said the waiter suspiciously, "good luck finding that lens." He walked away, glancing back once with a concerned look on his face.

"Whew!" said Bellatrix. "That was close, _Phil_."

"Yeah. …Hey, Bella?"

"Hmm?"

"Your hand was on my buttocks that entire time wasn't it?"

"Why yes, it was."

"…Hey, Bella?"

"Hmm?"

"TAKE YOUR HAND OFF MY BUTTOCKS!"

Snape jerked his head toward the plant, a furious look in his eyes.

Bella shook her head disapprovingly. "Not an experienced spy, are you now? You have to be quiet, you know, Voldypoo, or they'll discover us."

Voldemort glared angrily at her.

"So…," she continued awkwardly, "what was up with that guy's British accent, anyway?"

"Are you ready to order?" asked the waiter, approaching Snape and Jessie's table.

Snape was taken aback; he hadn't even looked at his menu. "Um, yes, I'll have ice water, and the…_escargot_?" he said, choosing an item at random.

"Very well, _monsieur_. And you, _mademoiselle_?"

"Um, just a Caesar salad and an iced tea for me, thanks." She was stifling a laugh.

"Be back in a moment." The waiter took the menus and headed toward the kitchen.

"And what," said Snape, an edge to his voice, "is so funny?"

"You just ordered snails, you know."

"…Of course I knew that. I…er…eat them all the time. Taste like chicken."

"Sure…. Anyways…you said you were a schoolteacher?"

Snape grimaced. "Er…yes, I suppose I did mention that, didn't I?"

"…Well?"

"Well what?"

"I'm going to need more details than that, stupid. What subject do you teach?"

Oh crap. "Uh…chemistry?"

The waiter arrived, carrying a small tray with two glasses balanced perfectly on top. "Your drinks," he said, setting them down and walking away.

Jessie took a small sip of her iced tea; Snape stirred his water absentmindedly with his straw, praying that Jessie would not try to continue the conversation.

"I hated chemistry with a passion," she said with a mischievous grin, as if she knew what he was thinking.

"So did I. Still do, in fact. But, you know…got to get by somehow…."

Luckily, Voldemort failed to hear a word of Snape's lies, for he was a bit preoccupied at the moment….

"Bella, get off! Now is not hugging time! Bella, get—Bella—I command you… ACCIO CROWBAR! ACCIO CROWBAR! I NEED MY FRIGGIN' WAND!"

"Wand?" said Snape, again jerking his head toward the plant (now rustling furiously).

"Are you OK?" asked Jessie, looking concerned.

"Fine, fine…it's nothing…."

"You know, I'm not really hungry…. If you want to, we can leave the money for the food and go."

"No, no, it's all right…." Remembering the snails, he continued, "Unless _you_ want to."

Jessie shook her head, pulling a wallet out of her black purse. "You are such a pansy…."

"What are you doing?"

"Paying for my food…what does it _look_ like I'm doing?"

"Oh no, I wouldn't hear of it. Put your wallet away, I've got this."

"Aw…," whispered Bellatrix. "Look, Voldypoo, he wants to pay for her food…. Doesn't that just make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside?"

"_No_! Get away from me!"

Jessie, with her quick wit and tenacity, easily won the argument. Snape grudgingly allowed her to pay, and the two headed for the door. Voldemort and Bellatrix followed, both trying to move as quietly as possible.

"So…now what?" asked Snape, standing awkwardly outside the door.

"Well, there's a band playing in the park tonight…."

"Ugh…music?"

"Oh, come on, Sev! It beats just standing around."

Snape cringed; Lily used to call him Sev. "I suppose…. Where's the park?"

Jessie pointed across the street, where a large crowd could clearly be seen surrounding a stage where the band played.

Snape hadn't even noticed the loud music. "Oh, right. Well, what are we waiting for?"

"Just _you,_" said Jessie with a laugh, grabbing his hand and sprinting across the street.

The spies crept behind them, both silently giggling at Jessie's enthusiasm. But when they reached the park, Voldemort stopped. "There's no place to hide!"

"It doesn't matter!" said Bellatrix. "We're in disguise, remember? Besides, just look at this crowd. There's no _way_ they'll spot us! Come on, there's no reason we can't enjoy the concert, too." There was a hint of flirtation in her tone, which Voldemort chose to ignore.

"Okay then."

The crowd bounced up and down with the boisterous rhythm of the band's signature song. It was the loudest, most fun and energetic form of rock-and-roll. The lead singer's words were unintelligible, but that didn't matter; the music seemed to move all who heard it, and it proved impossible _not_ to dance. Snape bobbed his head vigorously with the tune, sending Jessie into a fit of laughter.

_What is this?_ he wondered. _Am I actually having _fun_?_

"HOLY CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!" screamed Voldemort as he crowd-surfed. "PUT ME DOWN, YOU FOOLS! I AM THE DARK…er…PHIL!!! HELP, RENEE, I'M SCARED!"

"I'm coming, Phillypoo!" Jumping into the midst of the crowd, Bellatrix attempted to surf her way to Voldemort. "Hey, this is awesome! I AM A ROCK STAR!!!"

"RENEE!"

"Right, sorry! I'm on my way!" Finally, she reached out and grabbed his hand. "Gotcha!"

"Great!" said Voldemort with a sigh of relief. "…Now what?"

"Uh…."

Suddenly, the music stopped and the crowd was calmed. Voldemort and Bellatrix hit the ground with a loud _thud_.

The band's lead singer, a blonde boy who looked to be about college age, grabbed the microphone stand and shouted, "This one is for all you couples out there!" Then a new song began, slow and passionate. The twinkling lights illuminating the park dimmed, and the lead singer crooned softly. The crowd began to couple up; every guy found a girl, and they held each other tightly, slowly moving in sync with the gentle music. Snape wasn't entirely sure he wanted to, but he took his date's hand nonetheless and the two danced awkwardly.

"Um..y-y'know, Voldypoo…," stuttered Bellatrix, "we _are_ supposed to be a married couple here…. Uh, maybe we should dance…just to keep up appearances."

"Yes, that would probably be a good idea."

She shrieked and grabbed his hand eagerly, pulling him as close to her as possible and resting her head on his shoulder.

"Wow, Bella! Way to make it look convincing!"

"What? Oh…yeah."

"Well, this doesn't _completely_ suck," said Jessie, draping her arm around Snape's shoulder. She couldn't help but notice the way his hair shined in the moonlight; she knew quite well that this was caused by accumulated grease and oil, but preferred to ignore that fact.

Snape pulled her in a bit closer. "I suppose not."

"Ooh, look, Bella," said Voldemort. "This is getting intense."

"It sure is…."

"I mean, just look at them! It's so sweet!"

"What? Oh, right…Snape and Jessie…. You know, Voldypoo, your deep red eyes are magnificent in this lighting—"

"Shut up, Bella, I'm trying to overhear their conversation."

Neither Snape nor Jessie said a word, but they were both staring intensely into each other's eyes.

"Oh…my…_word_," breathed Voldemort excitedly.

Finally turning her attention to the couple, Bellatrix gasped. "They're gonna kiss, they're gonna kiss, they're gonna kiss!" she chanted, jumping up and down. "They're gonna kiss, they're gonna kiss, we're gonna kiss, they're gonna—"

"Wait…what did you say?"

"Um…nothing."

Snape's gaze never strayed from Jessie; she gave a tiny smile, and he leaned in closer….

But then, the music abruptly stopped. "Thank you all for coming!" shouted the lead singer. "You guys rock!"

The crowd gave one final cheer, and began to disperse.

"It's getting kind of late," said Jessie, blushing. "I should get going."

"Right." He released her hand, looking slightly crestfallen.

"Thanks for meeting up with me." She hesitated. "Call me again."

"All right." He watched as she crossed the street and disappeared into the darkness.

"Aww...," whined Voldemort, "nothing happened! Oh well…I think we can cut out the act now, Bella. …Seriously, you can release me now."

She gazed at him with lustful eyes.

"…You can stop gazing at me with those lustful eyes now, Bella. Really, there's no need to…er…hold me tighter…or lean in closer…. Bella, what are you—"

Her lips met his rather forcefully; his eyes grew wide with shock, and he struggled desperately to free himself. Finally managing to shove her away, he shouted, "WHAT THE CRAP?"

"Oops," she said with a giggle.

"Right, well…." He spat into his hand. "Here's your gum back…and let's never speak of this again, shall we?"

"Whatever you say, Voldelicious!" She promptly snatched the chewing gum from his hand and sighed. "I will treasure it always."

"O-kaaaaaay…you do that."

So they started back for camp, Voldemort striding at a quicker-than-usual pace and Bellatrix skipping happily by his side.

* * *

Everyone else had long been asleep, but Snape lie awake for hours, wondering. He would never rest until he found out, so he silently crept out of his tent and ventured into the woods. He would have to be far away, very far…. He walked on for what seemed like an eternity. Then, glancing back behind him, he stopped and pulled something from a pocket of his robes: the thing he never should have brought, that he would surely be _killed_ if anyone knew he brought, but that he couldn't bear to leave behind…his wand.

"_Expecto Patronum,_" he muttered, waving it in the air with a hopeful gleam in his eye. The silver doe burst forth, sprinting gleefully throughout the trees, and was gone in a flash.

Snape sighed despondently and walked away.

**A/N: If you were wondering, **_**La Merde Sainte **_**means "The Holy Crap" in French. Okay, so I'm pretty much **_**dying**_** to know what you guys thought of this chapter…so…review! ^_^**


	9. What's the Worst That Could Happen?

The campsite was bathed in the beautiful golden light of dawn. The whole forest seemed to awaken from a peaceful slumber, now full of life. Dewdrops covered every leaf, sparkling like precious gems as the rising sun shone upon them. Bluebirds fluttered overhead, tweeting happily as if to say, "Good morning!" …That is, until they were shot out of the air by flaming marshmallows.

"Shouldn't we wait until night to roast these?" asked Bellatrix, sitting beside Voldemort in front of the campfire.

"And miss out on all the fun?" replied Voldemort, a stick in hand. "No way!"

Bellatrix sighed, apparently lost in thought. She began to hum a tune, and then sang under her breath, "_I kissed My Lord and I liked it, the taste of his very chapped lips…_"

"Bella!"

"…_I kissed My Lord just to try it, I hope my husband don't mind it…"_

"Shut up!"

"Ugh…," came a voice from a nearby tent.

Voldemort turned his head in the direction of the groan and laughed. "Hello, Lucius. Didn't sleep well, I take it?"

"I miss my king-sized memory foam mattress…."

"Wuss."

Narcissa stepped out of her tent as well, looking just as pained as her husband. "Hey, guys."

"Morning, Cissy!" said Bellatrix with a giggle. "I had the most interesting dream last night. It involved spearmint and dark lord lips! …OW!" It was her turn to receive a marshmallow in the eye. "…Which I wasn't supposed to tell anyone about."

Narcissa yawned. "That's great, Bells." Still groggy from a poor sleep, she stumbled over to her sister and sat down beside her. "I need coffee."

Voldemort handed her a mug. "Freshly brewed!"

"Great." She took a sip, and then spit it out instantly. "You call this slop _coffee_? Why, back home at the Manor…"

"They don't camp much, do they?" whispered Voldemort as she ranted on.

Bellatrix laughed. "Are you kidding? 'Roughing it' for them is a three-star hotel."

"…and _our_ coffee is imported straight from…Oh, good morning, Draco dear!"

Draco had emerged from his tiny purple tent, a pathetic look on his face. "Mommy, I wanna go home! I just can't sleep on the dirt!"

"Neither can I, sweetheart. Come give Mommy a hug."

Lucius groaned. "For the love of Merlin, Cissa! Have you ever considered that maybe _this_ is the reason the boy's a softie?"

She kissed her son on the forehead and hugged him tightly. "Oh, be quiet, Lucius. He is not a softie."

"He's wearing Dora the Explorer pajamas!"

"Lots of teenagers like Dora!"

"Name one!"

"…Draco's just special, that's all. We need to embrace that!"

"He doesn't _need_ to be 'special!' He needs to be tough like his old man!" A cool breeze drifted by, blowing Lucius's hair out of place. "Oh crap. Where's my comb? Where's my hair spray? I need them now!"

"Mommy," said Draco innocently, "do tough men always freak out about their hair like that?"

"Your father's not tough, dear."

Voldemort looked around the campsite and nodded with satisfaction. "Looks like everyone is up…except… Where's Snape?"

"Still asleep, My Lord," said Lucius, combing his hair with one hand and spraying it every five seconds with the other.

Rodolphus sat down between Narcissa and Bellatrix; the latter in turn maneuvered closer to Voldemort. "I tried to wake him up a minute ago, but he told me to leave him be." He leaned over and kissed his wife on the cheek. "Morning, sweetie."

Bellatrix grinned slightly, remembering the much more satisfactory kiss of the previous night, and maliciously ignited a marshmallow. Rodolphus ran for his life.

Voldemort chuckled. "I imagine Sevvy's lost in some romantic dream involving his new lady. Must be interesting, being in love."

"Indeed," said Bellatrix, gazing at him longingly.

"Er…yes…rather…."

"So what's the plan for today, My Lord?" asked Lucius, finally done with his hair.

"I was thinking we could hike through the woods."

"Er…hiking? You know, I believe I'll just stay here at camp instead…."

"I'm with you, honey," said Narcissa.

"Ew, I'm not going either!" said Draco.

Voldemort sighed. "Anyone?"

Everyone groaned; Voldemort had never realized just how lazy his followers were.

"_I'll_ go with you, Voldypoo!" said Bellatrix eagerly.

Knowing quite well that she had other things than just hiking on her mind, Voldemort promptly responded by saying, "I think I'll go alone."

Grabbing his stuff and lacing up his hiking boots, the Dark Lord set off.

"You think it was wise to let him go alone?" said Lucius after he had gone.

"Don't worry yourself, honey," said Narcissa confidently. "What's the worst that could happen?"

* * *

"OK, I'm pretty sure I've passed that tree already." The sun was directly overhead as Voldemort trekked onward. "…And that rock." He observed his surroundings, finding everything surprisingly familiar. "…And I _know_ I've passed by this berry bush. I do hope those weren't poisonous…they tasted like crap. Have I been going in circles or something? Wait, I think I bought a map of the area at that souvenir shop…."

He dug in his pack and pulled out a small pamphlet. He opened it up, revealing it to be a colorful and very detailed map of Happy Fun Land. "Blast!"

He spun around frantically, his eyes darting in all directions. He was sweating fiercely. "Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap…THE DARK LORD IS _LOST_!" He ran a few paces in one direction, then turned around and ran another way.

Hopeless, he sat down on the ground and began to weep. "I never thought I'd die this way…never thought I'd die at all, actually…. But I mustn't give up yet. I just have to remember my old Wizard Scout days! Let's see…moss always grows on the…north side of the tree…or was it the south? It might have been the west…or the east. THE DARK LORD IS GOING TO DIIIIEEEEEEEEE!"

There came a rustle from a nearby bush, and a small furry tail could be seen amongst its leaves.

"Hello there, little guy," said Voldemort with relief. "Are you here to comfort me? Come on out, you cute little furry thing, and we'll be the best of friends! …Well, come on!"

The rabid raccoon jumped out from behind the bush and latched itself onto Voldemort's face, clawing and biting fiercely.

"Get it off! Get it off! I DON'T LIKE HIKING ANYMORE!!!"

Finally managing to pull the wild animal off his face, Voldemort sprinted away, not caring in which direction he ran. Although the raccoon did not give chase, he ran for a good twenty minutes before stopping, not wanting to take any chances.

"First aid!" he screamed, rummaging through his pack and pulling out a large box. After the events of last year's beach trip, Snape had been instructed to brew plenty of health restoring potions and pack them away for future use. At last Voldemort found what he needed; upon gulping down every last drop of the foul-smelling potion, he could almost feel the toxins disappearing from his body. "Sure beats those rabies injections…."

He looked around, recognizing none of his surroundings and wondering why he would pack a box full of potions, but no compass. There was nothing but evergreen trees in all directions.

Suddenly, a light and dreamy female voice echoed throughout the forest. "Do you need help, my dear?" It sounded pleasant and soothing, yet somehow…inhuman.

Voldemort jumped in shock. "Yes…yes, I do."

"Step forward a bit. I'll be delighted to help you find your way."

"Who are you?"

The voice gave a soft laugh, and then faded away.

"Come back!" yelled Voldemort, running forward. A shadow seemed to flash by in front of him, disappearing behind a tree.

The laugh resumed, this time growing deeper and deeper…until finally Voldemort, horror written on his face, could recognize the tone.

All he could see was a shadowy figure rapidly advancing on him before his head cracked against a huge evergreen tree, and he was knocked unconscious.

G.R. raised his wand; his victim was clearly in reach, and so defenseless…. But as he prepared to utter those final two words, something happened that he never expected.

Voldemort's furry friend had followed after all, and was now firmly attached to his attacker's shadowed face. Hard as he tried, G.R. could not pry the raccoon away from him. He turned on the spot and was gone; the vicious animal fell to the ground.

But Voldemort still lay helpless on the ground, his skull cracked and bleeding. The raccoon took one last swipe at his face and scurried away.


	10. Meanwhile, At Malfoy Manor

**A/N: Um…hi…you remember me, right? Yeah, it's been awhile…and I'm really, really, really, really sorry for not updating…. I mean REALLY sorry…. School has kept me so busy and uninspired lately, but that's no excuse. I promise I'll get the next chapter up a lot sooner. And I've got some ideas for new stories, too! So, anyways, um…now that you know I'm not dead or anything…**

"_Sound system?_" Nagini marked an item off her checklist with a fancy-looking ballpoint pen that she held between her teeth. "_Check. Appropriate party music?_" She glanced to her left, nodding in approval at the huge stack of heavy metal albums lying on the floor. "_Check. Double chocolate explosion cake? Check._" She hissed with demented pleasure at the thought of every piece of expensive furniture in the Malfoys' home, completely covered in a sticky chocolate mess. "_Alcohol?_"

Olga burst through the front door, sending it flying open with such force that it was almost ripped off its hinges. "OLGA GOT KEG!"

"_Alcohol…check!_ _Excellent, Olga!_"

"WE GETTING TANKED TONIGHT!"

"_You bet we are! Have the Order members RSVP'd yet?_"

"DUMBLEDORE CALL BACK LAST NIGHT. LOTS COMING!"

"_Fantastic! …Wait…Dumbledore? I thought he was dead._"

Olga rolled her eyes. "THIS HUMOR FIC, NAGINI. CANON NO MATTER HERE."

"_OK…I'm not sure what that means, and quite frankly, I'm terrified to ask. So how 'bout I just take your word for it that he's alive?_"

"THAT WORKS. WE DECORATE NOW?"

Nagini dropped the pen and readied her enormous can of Silly String. "_Let's get started!_"

Soon the Malfoys' drawing room was officially party-ready; streamers in a rainbow of colors hung from the ceiling, platters of the messiest foods imaginable were scattered about for the guests' enjoyment, large speaker systems were at the ready to produce music of an ear-splitting volume, and every inch of every surface in the gigantic room was covered in silly string and confetti. Only one thing was missing: the beer keg. That was to remain in the kitchen until party time, when it would be presented to the guests in a triumphant fashion. Nagini and Olga both looked extremely proud of themselves as they took in the scene. Now all that was left to do was wait.

It was only fifteen short minutes later when the doorbell rang (although Nagini would describe those minutes as being long and torturous, spent somehow keeping Olga away from the food displays).

"OLGA GET DOOR!" she shouted, nearly trampling Nagini to get there.

"Greetings, my fine young gargantuan!" It was Dumbledore, with Minerva McGonagall standing by his side in the doorway. "What a pleasant night to party down and get wasted, don't you agree?"

"YOU TALK FUNNY."

"May we come in?" asked McGonagall. "We brought Cheetos."

"SURE, COME IN PARTY!"

Dumbledore cackled when he saw what had become of the Malfoys' once classy drawing room. "Lucius won't like this, now will he? Such colorful decorations…oh my, where did these come from?" He picked up an odd-looking feather; there were hundreds scattered all over the floor.

Olga smiled. "PEACOCKS NO PRETTY NO MORE!"

"Ah…indeed." Suddenly, Dumbledore gasped, having spotted Nagini. "The snake horcrux! Pity I didn't bring Gryffindor's sword…but oh well. Now is not the time for fighting. Nagini, tonight you're my drinking buddy!"

Nagini hissed with delight.

The doorbell rang again; this time it was the golden trio, otherwise known as… the Jonas Brothers! Just kidding…they suck. It was actually Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Hi, Harry!" said Dumbledore ecstatically.

"Professor?" said Harry with a gasp. "I thought you were dead!"

"Oh, I am. So how've you been, my good boy?"

"Not so great, actually…."

"You look absolutely _dashing_ tonight."

"Er…thanks, Professor…but my eyes are up _here_."

"Oh, yes…of course they are…"

"Wait…if you're here, then…is Sirius coming, too?"

"Why, of course not, silly…he's dead!"

"Oh…."

"So, Harry, my dear boy…how about a dance with your old headmaster?"

"Um…well…Ginny's here, too, and I was kind of wanting to dance with her…." Arthur, Molly, Ginny, Fred, and George Weasley had arrived with the trio, and they were just now coming in the door.

"Er...yes, of course," said Dumbledore, looking slightly dejected.

Nagini hit a button on the stereo with her tail and music began to play. Harry grabbed Ginny's hand and the two of them started to dance gleefully; Hermione and Ron did the same, thanking Merlin it wasn't a slow song; Fred and George, however, had promptly left down the hallway in search of Draco's room, each carrying a boxful of fireworks.

Arthur tried to lead his wife over to the dance floor, but she was still taking in the sight of the vast, ornate party room. "Wow," she said. "So _this_ is where that son-of-a-banshee Lucius Malfoy lives…."

"Honey," said Arthur, "um…you might want to watch your language."

"Oh, come off it, Arthur, I'm an adult! I can say whatever the—" One of the twin's fireworks went off, just in time to block out a very unpleasant word. "—I want!"

"All…all right, dear."

Molly gasped excitedly. "Holy—" Another firework went off, this one thankfully louder than the first. "I love this song! Come on, Arthur, let's dance!" Without waiting for a response, she dragged him away to the dance floor and began to swing him around quite forcefully.

Soon most of the Order had arrived, and the party became more raucous by the second. Expensive vases were knocked over as the Order members danced around. The considerable supply of snacks Olga and Nagini had set out was quickly depleting, and many of the stickier foods had been thrown against the walls.

"Look what I found, guys!" shouted Tonks excitedly, holding up an empty butterbeer bottle. "Anyone up for some truth or dare?"

"Yeah!" shouted the party goers, sitting down on the floor and forming a circle.

Tonks spun the bottle, and everyone cheered as they watched it go. Finally it stopped, landing on…

"Olga!" said Tonks. "OK…truth or dare?"

"OLGA PICK TRUTH."

"Right…um…what _are_ you, anyway?"

Olga smiled a humongous smile. "FATHER WAS GIANT. MOTHER WAS TROLL. IT WAS STRAINED RELATIONSHIP. HE ONLY WANT HER FOR HER BODY."

"Oh…all right, then…You can spin now…."

Olga sent the bottle flying; it must have taken at least two minutes before it finally stopped, landing on Dumbledore.

"Oh my!" he said with a chuckle.

"TRUTH OR DARE, OLD RAINBOW MAN?"

"I do believe I'm feeling up to a dare tonight!"

There came a few "Ooohs" from the crowd.

"OLGA DARE YOU…" She looked around the circle, smiled a bit, then pointed to a small door in a corner of the room. "…TO GO IN THAT CLOSET FOR FIVE MINUTES WITH McGONAGALL!"

Everyone in the circle gasped. Fred and George looked on from the hallway, their fireworks supply depleted. "Wicked…," they said in unison.

"Yeah…um…," said Dumbledore, his face turning as red as Fawkes. "She's not…really my type…."

"YOU SAY DARE!"

"Yes, I suppose I did, didn't I…."

McGonagall was blushing, too. "I can't say I approve of this…."

"Oh, come on, you two!" said Harry anxiously. "Get your butts in there! You've gotta do the dare!"

"Er…very well," said Dumbledore quietly. "Just…give me one moment first, alright?" He hurried off to the kitchen and the Order followed, listening at the door like overly excited schoolgirls. They could have sworn they heard him distinctly mumble, "_Accio booze,_" before coming back into the drawing room. He now smelled of butterbeer and he was staggering back and forth. "All…all right, um…Minnie…let's go." He gave a hiccup, took McGonagall's hand, and the two disappeared behind the closet door.

McGonagall emerged seconds later, looking thoroughly disgruntled. "He passed out drunk," she said grudgingly.

"_Oh crap,_" hissed Nagini, slithering into the kitchen. She examined the keg; every bit of alcohol had been completely drained from it. "_Um…Olga?_"

Olga came bounding toward the kitchen; Nagini could hear her coming. _Thud. Thud. Thud._ Olga swung open the kitchen door. "WHAT YOU WANT?"

"_Well, er…you're going to have to make a little announcement for me._"

A few moments later the kitchen door swung open again, and Olga entered the party room. "CAN OLGA HAVE ATTENTION PLEASE?" Everyone turned their heads toward the gargantuan. "THANK YOU. OLGA REGRET INFORM YOU WE NO HAVE BOOZE."

There came a furious outcry from the partygoers. Molly Weasley, perhaps, was shouting the loudest of all. "WHAT THE—" A vase fell to the floor with a deafening crash. "—DO YOU THINK WE CAME HERE FOR? MAKE WITH THE BOOZE THIS INSTANT, OR I WILL—" A spell zoomed past and hit the wall, and a large chunk of it exploded. "—YOUR SORRY—" There came a loud crackling noise. ("Well, what do you know?" said Fred. "We had another firework left after all….") "AND I MEAN IT!" And with that, she picked Arthur up off the floor and tossed him at Nagini; they both fell backward.

A total riot had broken out. Everyone was fighting, expensive things were being broken to pieces left and right…even McGonagall had succeeded in transfiguring a grand piano into a medieval-style mace and was destroying everything in sight. But Olga and Nagini simply smiled at each other; they couldn't have imagined a sweeter revenge to take against the Death Eaters!

They were still smiling, in fact, when dawn broke and, having sufficiently reduced the majority of expensive things in the mansion to piles of rubbish, the Order left. Olga and Nagini giggled; the Death Eaters would have one heck of a surprise when they got home!

Suddenly, Olga fell silent. "NAGINI…WHAT DEATH EATERS DO WHEN THEY SEE THIS?"

"_Well, I imagine they'll…um…they'll be quite…er..._" Nagini paused for a moment to think about this. She had not really put this into consideration while planning the party, but now that she thought about it, Voldemort and his servants were never ones to handle anger well…. "_Crap…. GRAB A MOP AND BROOM AND GET CLEANING, OLGA!_"

Olga obeyed, and so began a long and seemingly hopeless struggle to return Malfoy Manor to its former brilliance…and to do so before the Purple Roadmonkeys returned.

**A/N: No peacocks were harmed in the making of this chapter…except the Malfoys' peacocks. As for them…um, well… Kids, let me tell you about a wonderful place called Peacock Heaven….**


	11. Wilted Willows

"Wake up, sleepy-head!"

Voldemort stirred slightly, finally coming to. There was a terrible pain in his skull; he felt as if he had been hit by a truck. "Wha?"

"Dang…what happened to you?"

Voldemort sat up to find a young, unfamiliar boy of about seventeen standing over him. The length and texture of his hair were not unlike that of Snape's, but the color was a light brown, streaked with blue. He had a wide smile and bad teeth, and from the looks of his clothing Voldemort could guess he was one of those "high school nerds." He wore checkered pants, a shirt with a pocket…and was that a pocket protector?

"So…," said the boy in a nasally tone, "you looking for a Christmas tree or something?"

"What?" replied Voldemort, still rather woozy.

"Well, you _are_ in the Goodness Christmas Tree Farm."

"Christmas tree farm?" Looking around, he realized that the evergreen trees surrounding him were lined up in perfect rows; some of them had little red bows on them. "Oh…no, I just got lost. I was in the forest, and somehow, I ended up here…."

"Well, that would make more sense. I mean, who in their right mind would shop for Christmas trees in the summertime?"

"Well then, what are _you_ doing here?"

"Trying to pick up chicks."

"I see…." Then he gasped, remembering his attacker's most recent strike. "Listen, pal…I need some help. There's this maniac that keeps trying to kill me, and…well…I'm beginning to wonder if I'm not completely safe anymore. Do you know of anywhere I could hide out?"

"Well…you could crash with me and my brothers for a while, if you'd like."

"Crash? No…I've been injured enough as it is. Can I just stay with you guys or something?"

The nerd laughed a high-pitched, rather annoying laugh. "You're funny. I can tell we're gonna be great friends. The name's James, by the way. James Barnes. But my cool nickname is Jimmy Dawg, 'cause I'm just pimpin' like that."

"Er…pleasure to meet you."

"And you are?"

"I am Lord Voldemort, most feared dark wizard in the world."

"…Okay. Welcome to Goodness…the most awesomest town _ever_!"

Voldemort flinched; he could tell just by the name that he wasn't going to like this place. "Well, let's get going…."

And so Voldemort followed his new buddy out of the farm and to his car, parked out front; the two listened to Michael Jackson as they drove through the small town, which really didn't seem as "awesome" as James had made it out to be.

Finally they came up on a left turn; a sign placed on the curve revealed this road to be Wilted Willows Drive. James turned and exclaimed, "Home sweet home!"

They passed house after house; the similarity of them all made it quite obvious that this was a suburban area. Finally he turned into a driveway and parked the car. "Welcome to my humble abode. Come on in and meet the guys."

"Er…alright."

The inside of the house looked just as typically domesticated as the outside. The front door opened up to the living room; a white couch was situated in front of a TV, and framed pictures of three teenage boys hung on the walls.

Suddenly, two identical boys, who looked to be about James's age, trampled down the hallway to meet their new guest.

"Oh," said Voldemort, "you two are twins."

"Ayup," said one. Their hair was the same color brown as their brother's, but it was short and frazzled. They wore matching sweater-vests.

"New friend, I'd like you to meet my brothers!" said James. He gestured toward the one on the left. "This is Steve." He pointed at the other. "And this is Steve."

Voldemort looked confused. "You two are both named Steve? Doesn't that get confusing?"

"No," said the one on the left. "Why would it?"

"Never mind. It's a pleasure to meet you, Steve. And…er…you as well, Steve."

"No, _he's_ Steve. _I'm_ Steve."

"…Whatever."

"Guys," said James, "this is our new buddy…um…whose name I can't remember. It was…Bob wasn't it?"

"Voldemort, actually…."

"Oh. Well, I was close. So lemmie show you the guest bedroom now, Bob!"

"Nice to meet cha, Bob!" said the two Steves in unison, following their brother down the hallway.

Voldemort set his things down in the very ordinary looking bedroom. The walls were off-white and the curtains matched the bedspread. But it definitely beat laying unconscious in the middle of a Christmas tree farm. "So…you three fellows live here…with no parents or guardians whatsoever?"

"Well, duh," said James, rolling his eyes.

"…And the authorities have never interfered?"

One of the Steves leaned in and whispered, "Our police force kinda sucks around here." He pointed out the window. "Oh, look! There goes the chief now." A police car swerved down the street, knocking over a mailbox. "Looks like he's been drinkin' again."

"…Your police chief _drinks and drives_?"

"Oh, all the time! It's hilarious."

Then there was awkward silence. Voldemort could hear _Thriller _playing in the background. "So…what do you guys normally do around here?"

"We normally just sit around and talk about hot chicks all day. You know any?"

"No. Well, there's Bella…but she's just kind of creepy."

"You got a picture?"

"Oh yeah, she gives me pictures of herself all the time. I normally throw them away, but she did give me one earlier…." He reached in a pocket of his leather jacket and handed over the picture.

"Sweet…," said James, "you're a lucky man!"

"You like her? Feel free to take her."

"Nah, my heart belongs to the beautiful Gianna Roosevelt. Ever heard of her?"

"Who is she, some kind of celebrity?"

"No, she's my next door neighbor."

"Well then, how could I possibly have heard of her?"

"I dunno, I'm not a rocket surgeon…. Want to meet the Roosevelts?"

"No."

"Alright, buddy, let's go! You're gonna love 'em!"

So the Dark Lord was dragged against his will to the almost identical house next door. James rang the doorbell.

"Mom! Someone's at the door!" said a female voice from inside.

"Is it George Clooney?" said an older sounding voice. "'Cause that would be great!"

Footsteps were heard as the younger female apparently moved to look through the door's peephole. "Of course not, Mom."

"Well, does he look like George Clooney?"

"No…he doesn't have a nose!"

"Well, does he look like George Clooney would if he didn't have a nose?"

"No…he's pretty much the ugliest guy I've ever seen in my life."

"Are they aware that I can hear them?" whispered Voldemort.

"Yeah, probably," said James with a shrug.

"Well, let him in," said the older voice, "and we'll see what he wants. I'll be right there, hon."

The door opened, revealing a peppy-looking teenage girl, her raven black hair pulled up in pigtails. Her clothing was casual, and she wore very little makeup. "Oh, hi, James. Hi…noseless guy."

"This is Bob!" said James.

"Oh, hi, Bob. I'm…Theodore." She blushed as she said the name.

"Theodore?" said Voldemort. "But you're a—"

"A girl, I know. Mom wanted to name me after someone remarkable, and our last name happened to be Roosevelt, so she named me Theodore. They gave her a lot of pain medicine in the hospital…she was still pretty high when she named me."

"Apparently."

Theodore rolled her eyes. "Hey, Theodore happens to be a very feminine name!"

"No it doesn't," said Voldemort and James in unison.

"Well, just call me 'Thea,' then. Everyone else does. Oh, here comes Mom."

A middle-aged woman came down the hallway to the living room. She had laugh lines and a couple of other wrinkles, and she looked to be somewhere in her fifties. Her short brown hair was neat and smooth, cut in a stereotypical "mom" style. "Hi, there! I'm Dot. Do you need something?"

"Oh, nothing, really," said Voldemort. "This young man kind of forced me over here."

Dot chuckled. "That doesn't surprise me." She turned to James. "And how are you today?"

"Just great, Dot!"

"Ms. Roosevelt," she corrected in an irritated tone.

James laughed. "We've been over this, Dot. You know you can just call me 'Jimmy Dawg!'"

"…Right," she said with a sigh. "So do you boys want to come in and have some lemonade?"

"You know, I think I'll just go now," said Voldemort, starting to walk away.

"But Dot makes such great lemonade!" said James, pulling him back. "Really, Dot, how do you do it?"

"Oh, it's easy. Step one: go to store. Step two: buy powdered lemonade mix…."

"Never mind, it's too complicated."

"You know," whispered Voldemort frantically to James, "there _is_ a murderer after me…."

"Oh, right. Well, this guy's paranoid, so I guess we'd better go…."

"Mom! Who's at the door?" Another young girl, seemingly close to Thea's age, came into the room. She was dressed fashionably, in what was clearly the latest style. Her dark brown hair was streaked with red and pulled back in a ponytail.

"Hi, Gianna!" said James, blushing.

Gianna sneered. "What are _you_ doing here, James? I thought I got a restraining order out on you!"

"Yeah, but let's be honest here, G. Who's gonna enforce it…the police?" A loud crash was heard in the distance; Voldemort presumed the chief had hit another mailbox.

"Whatever…and who's _this_?" she replied spitefully.

Voldemort's eyes met hers, and he received a look of deepest loathing. Her deep blue eyes seemed to pierce his very soul…or what was left of it, anyway. "Er…I'm Lord Voldemort, most feared wizard in—"

"I didn't ask for your life story."

"Don't be offended," said Thea in a whisper. "She treats everyone like that. I'm pretty sure she's evil," she continued with a laugh. Voldemort chuckled awkwardly.

"Anyway, he's gonna be staying with me and my brothers for a while," said James, "so I thought I'd bring him by and introduce him."

"Nice to meet you, then," said Thea.

"Welcome to the neighborhood!" said Dot.

"Let's get a few things straight," said Gianna. "You are not to bother me. You are not to speak to me. You are _never_ to get in my way. And if this loser," she gestured to James, "tries to talk you into spying on me, keep in mind that there _will_ be consequences. Very severe consequences. Got it, No Nose?"

Voldemort flinched. "Yes, ma'am."

"Oh, Gia," said Dot disapprovingly, "why do you always have to drive away our visitors like that?"

"Hey, I'm just saying…there's gotta be rules."

Dot sighed, turning to Voldemort. "Oh, don't listen to her, hon. You come over any time you like…except when Dr. Phil's on."

"Yeah," said Thea, "Mom is not to be disturbed during her Dr. Phil time. Or whenever George Clooney's on TV."

Dot laughed. "I love me some Clooney!"

"She's a bit obsessed, actually."

"Hey, Missy, some day he's gonna knock on the door. Who'll be laughing _then_?"

"Still me. 'Cause it's never gonna happen."

"Really now, we need to go," said Voldemort, turning around and pulling James with him. When they arrived again at the house next door, Voldemort chuckled. "You stalk her, don't you?"

"Heck yeah!"

* * *

Tears filled her eyes as Bellatrix ran through the forest. "Oh, Voldypoo, please don't be dead…I'm coming!" She stopped and looked around. "I know the screams came from somewhere around here…. Hey, what's this?" She pushed her way through a line of bushes and found herself surrounded by evergreen trees, all perfectly lined up in rows.

"Oh!" She could see the blood from quite a few paces away. She rushed toward the tree with which Voldemort's head had collided and fell down sobbing. "No, Voldypoo, no! You must be alive…you just have to be…."

The shabby-looking owner of the Christmas tree farm approached her, looking concerned. "Can I help you, ma'am?"

She sniffed and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "Yes…." Pulling a picture of Voldemort out of a pocket of her leather jacket, she continued, "Have you seen this sexy man?"

"Oh yeah. He left with that James kid." He pointed toward the road. "Turn left and go about three miles until you see a sign that says, 'Wilted Willows Drive.' Then look for the mailbox that says 'Barnes.' Although if the police chief's been there, you might not see a mailbox at all…."

"Oh, thank you, good sir. Because of your kindness, I will spare your life…for now."

"…All righty then."

The doorbell rang. "Open up at once!" came a frantic voice.

James gasped. "Steve! Steve! There's a _chick_ at the door!"

The Steves came rushing into the room. "A _female_ chick?"

"Yeah!"

"Holy crap, I _knew_ this day would come!"

"Who is it?" asked James, his hand already on the doorknob, ready to jerk the door open.

"My name is Bellatrix Black Lestrange, of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black."

The brothers giggled. "Ooh, she sounds all uppity-like!"

"Open up at once, I said! I must see my Voldypoo!"

James jerked the door open without hesitation. "It's the chick from the picture! You're even hotter in person."

"Excuse me?"

"You're welcome. Please, come in!"

"Bella?" said Voldemort, sitting on the couch, watching Oprah.

"Oh, Voldypoo!" She rushed over and hugged him. "I knew you were OK! Come on, we've got to get back to camp…."

"I'm staying here, Bella. G.R. tried to kill me _again_ in the forest."

"Oh my…how unexpected!"

"I know…I've got to hide out. But I'll be fine here, don't worry. You can go back."

"Are you sure? These guys seem…well…stupid."

"They're harmless, I assure you. Besides," he glanced toward the TV, "they have like five hundred channels on this thing!"

"Well, alright…," she said, slightly crestfallen. "I'll just…go, then." She very slowly made her way to the door, waved once, and left.

"Wow," said James. "The first chick ever to walk through our door…. My brethren, this is truly an historic day."

Bellatrix stopped as soon as the door closed behind her. She simply could not bring herself to leave Voldemort. Her brow creased with worry, she thought to herself, _how am I supposed to keep an eye on him?_ She glanced toward the house next door, and a crazy idea entered her even crazier mind. _They'll never let me stay if they know why I'm really here…. I've got to come up with some sob story._

* * *

The doorbell rang.

"Mom! Someone's at the door!"

"Is it George Clooney?"

"No!"

"Does it look like George Clooney?"

"It's a woman, Mom!"

"Well, does she look like George Clooney would if he were a woman?"

"…What?"

"Oh, just let her in…."

Thea opened the door to find Bellatrix standing there, weeping miserably. "Are you OK?"

"Oh, it's terrible," Bellatrix said very convincingly. "I just…er…escaped from my abusive husband Rodolphus!"

"Oh my gosh! I should have guessed…. You look so malnourished.

"Right…malnourished," grumbled Bellatrix, insulted but unable to retaliate.

"Oh my!" said Dot with a gasp. "What's wrong with her? She looks awful."

Bellatrix cursed softly under her breath.

"Mom, she just escaped from her abusive husband!"

"Oh dear! I can tell. She's skinny as a rail, her hair looks like a tornado's hit it, she's obviously been beaten multiple times--"

"OK!" shouted Bellatrix. "I think we've established how bad I look!"

"You're right, dear, no need to make you relive all those bad memories…which apparently you've been through a lot of."

"Yeah…right. So can I stay with you guys for a while?"

"Oh, of course! My name's Dot Roosevelt and this is my daughter Theodore…. My other daughter Gianna is here somewhere. Anyway, I'm afraid we don't have a guest bedroom, but Thea can sleep on the couch so you can sleep in her room."

"Why is it always _me_ sleeping on the couch and not Gianna?" said Thea.

"Quiet, honey, this woman's traumatized." Dot turned to Bellatrix and smiled. "May I ask your name, dear?"

"I am Bellatrix Black Lestrange, of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black."

"Oh…well, isn't that special. Thea's bedroom is the last door on the left, down the hallway there. You should get some rest."

"Thank you so much," said Bella in her most pathetic tone of voice.

She was halfway down the hall when Gianna emerged from her room. The two exchanged a look of disgust; each clearly thought herself superior to the other.

"Who are _you_ supposed to be?" said Gianna maliciously.

"I am Bellatrix Black-Lestrange, of the Most—"

"Shut up, frizzball. I don't like you."

"…Well you're not exactly a bowl of sunshine either, sister."

"I'd watch my back if I were you."

"Oh yeah? Well…your mom!"

"Did someone call me?" asked Dot.

"No…never mind," said Bellatrix, shaking her head. "You watch your back as well, _Gianna_." She said the name as if it were the filthiest of swear words.

Gianna smirked. "We'll just see about that. Oh, and that freaky noseless guy…I assume he's a friend of yours?"

"That's none of your business."

"Yeah, well…he'd better sleep with one eye open, too." And she walked away.

_Gianna Roosevelt_, thought Bellatrix as she lay down on her new bed. _Oh my badness…I think I'm living with G.R.!_

**A/N: New characters galore! I'd love to hear what you think of them so far, so please leave a review. Oh, and the "living with G.R." thing, too. What do you think? Is Gianna the murderer, or isn't she? Quite mysterious indeed....  
**


	12. Welcome to Goodness

Snape lay still with his eyes opened wide, covered by a downy sleeping bag and staring at the ceiling of his tent. His new cell phone lay inches from his head, and he would glance at it every few seconds, only to turn his head away every time feeling more angry with himself. Suddenly the prospect of seeing or even talking to Jessie again did not appeal to him as much as it did just two short days ago, and he hated himself for it. Hard as he tried, he could never seem to forget…

"Snape! Get up!" called Lucius.

But Snape just rolled over and shut his eyes.

"I'm serious!" Lucius insisted. Snape could hear the sound of boots marching furiously toward him, and then he heard the front zipper of his tent unzip. "You slept _all day_ yesterday, Severus! We're on _holiday_, for badness sake…would it kill you to get out a little?"

"Yes…leave me alone."

"Dude! How much sleep do you _need_?"

Snape groaned. He hadn't been sleeping; he had been thinking. "A fair amount."

"Well, you've had enough. Come on, Draco's going on a nature walk and he could use some company."

"As…thoroughly enjoyable…as that sounds, I'd rather stay in here. Leave me alone, I said."

Lucius sighed. "Fine, then." And he left the tent; Snape failed to notice the mischievous grin on his face. Whistling an upbeat tune, Lucius grabbed a stick off the ground, stuck a marshmallow on it, and set it fire.

"Daddy," said Draco, looking puzzled, "what are you doing?"

"Oh, nothing, son." Still whistling, he casually strode over to Snape's tent, unzipped it, and sent the marshmallow flying. Then he dropped the stick as if it were an activated hand grenade and ran to sit innocently by the campfire. His smirk became a wide grin as he waited.

"YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!" Snape burst from the tent, his flammable grease-covered hair completely engulfed in flames. He frantically grabbed a bucket of water beside the campfire, lifted it up, and dumped every last drop of the water on his head.

"Oh good, you're up!" said Lucius cheerfully. "And just in time! Draco's ready to go."

"YOU—ARE—THE—WORST—PERSON--"

"I know, I know, I've been told. Now get going, you two!"

"I packed for you already, Professor!" said Draco. "We're gonna have a super fun time!"

"I'm sure you will!" said Lucius with a laugh. "Bye!"

Snape shot Lucius a glare as Draco grabbed his hand and skipped happily into the woods.

"Honey," said Narcissa, a worried look in her eyes, "Bella's not come back yet. Do you suppose she's all right? I'm afraid some wild animal's found her or something…."

Lucius sighed. "Honestly, dear, I think I would be more afraid for the animal in that situation than for her."

"Oh, you're probably right…. Say, where's Rodolphus?"

_

* * *

Ding dong!_

"Mom! Someone's at the door!"

"Is it—"

"No."

"Does it look like—"

"_No_!"

"…Fine, just let them in…."

Thea groaned and opened the front door, revealing a tall, brown-haired man with heavy lidded eyes. He appeared to be apprehensive about something.

"H-hello," he stuttered. "My name is Rodolphus Lestrange…. I'm looking for my wife Bellatrix. Have you seen her?"

Thea gasped. "MOM! GET IN HERE! IT'S THE SCUMBAG!"

Rodolphus flinched. "W-well…I…er…have been called that, I suppose…."

"YOU MONSTER!" shouted Dot, rushing into the room with a frying pan in hand. "HOW _DARE_ YOU SHOW YOUR FACE HERE?"

"…Excuse me, ma'am?"

"Don't act like you don't know. Mistreating that poor innocent woman who's done nothing but care for you…You ought to be _ashamed_!" And before he had a chance to react, she hit him over the head with her frying pan. "HOW DO _YOU_ LIKE IT, BUDDY?"

Gianna rushed into the room. "What's going on?"

"Oh, we're just playing a little game, dear. It's called 'whack the abusive husband.'"

"I'll get the baseball bat!" exclaimed Thea.

"I'll get the crowbar!" added Gianna, and the two ran off down the hall.

Meanwhile, Bellatrix was still in bed, enjoying a deep slumber. "Oh, Voldypoo," she mumbled, "I'm not sure that's appropriate…." She grabbed her pillow and squeezed it tightly. "Well, all right…I can't resist _you_, either…."

Suddenly, she was awoken by a deafening uproar coming from the living room. "What the crap?" she muttered, jumping out of bed.

Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw. "_Rodolphus_? What the…?"

Dot took another swing at his head with the frying pan. "Don't worry, honey. We're beating him to a bloody pulp for ya!"

"Yeah!" cheered Thea and Gia as they took turns beating the crap out of poor Rodolphus.

"Hey, wait—can't we talk about this—hang on—ow! Bella!" he screamed.

But Bella only smiled, wiping a happy tear away with her sleeve. "You guys would do that for me?"

"Well, of course, hon!" said Dot comfortingly as she knocked out the last two of Rodolphus's teeth.

"Speak for yourself," said Gianna. "I still don't like you, frizzball…but I'm not fond of scum like him either." She swung her crowbar. "This is for all the women out there, you jerk!"

"Aww…," said Bellatrix emotionally. "Group hug?"

"Yeah, in a minute," said Thea, for she wasn't done yet.

"Alright, girls, I think he's learned his lesson," said Dot at last. "Now get out of here, you slimeball!"

"Yes…ma'am," squeaked Rodolphus, somehow managing to drag himself out the door. "You…have…a…lovely…home…by…the…way…."

Gianna slammed the door. "And _that_ is how we do things here in Goodness!"

Then they all hugged; one big, happy family. "Will you excuse me for a moment?" said Bellatrix after awhile.

"Of course," said Dot.

"Thanks." She rushed out the door, relieved to find that her husband had yet to drag himself all the way out of town; he had, in fact, not even reached the edge of the street yet. "Hey, Rodolphus!"

"Honey! You…came…."

"Yeah, yeah…listen; I need you to tell everyone back at camp that Voldypoo and I are fine. I think I may know who G.R. is, but I'm not completely sure; and even if I'm right, she's not going to get away with anything while I'm here. Got it?"

"Yes…dear…. Love…you…."

"Right, whatever…now get out of here. All that blood is starting to creep me out."

"Yes…dear…," he moaned, crawling miserably across the ground and back to the forest. His wife skipped happily in the opposite direction, thinking of nothing but Voldypoo and her plans to spy on him later. Of course, she would have to give the Roosevelts the slip first, lest they discover her true motive for staying with them. However, she couldn't help but think of them quite fondly now…except, perhaps, for Gianna….

_Gianna_.

Bellatrix stopped in her tracks, hating herself more than ever for not thinking of this…. If Gianna really was the mysterious murderer G.R., she had to be watched every second. Bellatrix ran as fast as she could toward the Roosevelt's home, a new mission in mind. For the first time in her life, she had to stalk someone besides her beloved Voldypoo…for the sake of his life.

* * *

"Wake up, sleepy-head!" said a nasally voice.

Voldemort woke with a start. "Wha—what time is it…?"

"Six-thirty," replied James. "Time to rise and shine! Steve's making breakfast now."

"Alright, well, I suppose I'll just—"

"Wait!" James glanced around nervously, making sure no one was listening, and then continued in a whisper, "Now listen to me. This is _very_ important…. Whatever you do, do _not_ tell the truth about Steve's biscuits."

"…What?"

James sighed. "Steve likes to make biscuits…a lot. And, well…they're terrible. But we don't have the heart to tell him, so just pretend you like them, OK? It might be a little difficult to do…."

"Oh, come now, they can't be that bad…."

Steve shouted excitedly from the kitchen, "Biscuits are done!"

With a solemn look, James gave Voldemort an encouraging pat on the back. "Good luck, my friend."

"Er…thanks," said Voldemort, getting up slowly.

When he reached the kitchen, Steve squealed with excitement. A large plate of hot, steaming biscuits was placed in the center of the dining table. Steve was already seated, grinning from ear to ear. "I can't _wait_ till you try them, Bob!"

"Splendid…." After only one day with the Barnes, Voldemort was already beginning to answer to "Bob." He sat down and picked up a biscuit. Steve's smile grew even wider with anticipation as his new friend took his first bite….

_Crack._ An unbearable pain, unlike any the Dark Lord had felt before, shot through his front teeth and seemed to vibrate throughout his entire body. He jerked the rock hard biscuit out of his mouth; he hadn't even made a dent in it. "ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME OR SOMETHING?"

"Wh…what…?" said Steve. Voldemort's fury turned to guilt the moment he saw the look on Steve's face: pathetic, pleading, mortally offended…Voldemort knew exactly what he was thinking: _You _must_ like my biscuits, new noseless friend, you just _have_ to!_

"Er…," the Dark Lord continued, "what I mean to say is…they're so dang good, I just about died!" _Holy crap_, he thought, _how did he do that?_

"Aw, thanks, buddy! Well, aren't you going to finish it now?"

"Oh, of…of course…." Looking like a dead lord walking, Voldemort stuffed the whole biscuit into his mouth and began to chew. _I suppose I can put off calling the dentist no longer now…,_ he thought miserably. Yet he continued to fake a smile, which seemed to satisfy Steve.

"Can you taste the gravel?" he asked.

Tears filling his eyes, Voldemort nodded. He could taste a _lot_ of gravel, and he also detected a hint of lime…stone. "Would you excuse me," he said, his mouth still full. "I have to go to the bathroom…." _And spit this crap out,_ he added mentally.

"Well, finish your biscuit first, big fella!"

And so, determined to end this torture as soon as possible, Voldemort swallowed. The jagged edges of the half-chewed biscuit seemed to rip and tear at his insides like razor blades. "Delicious…."

* * *

"Delicious!"

Bellatrix gleefully bit into her pink-frosted breakfast pastry. "Mmm…it's so delightfully flaky, and the strawberry filling is simply heavenly. Dot, you are a genius. What do you call these?"

Dot chuckled. "Pop Tarts."

"Amazing…."

"Here, have another. You need nourishment, dear."

"Right…nourishment…." Although insulted by this innocent comment regarding her personal appearance, Bellatrix did not refuse the extra Pop Tart.

"Woah, Gia, look at the time!" said Thea. "We're gonna be late for school."

Bellatrix nearly choked. "_School?_"

"Well, _duh_, frizzball," said Gianna spitefully. "We _are_ teenagers, and teenagers typically go to school…."

_Oh no,_ thought Bellatrix, _how am I supposed to keep an eye on her now?_ "Hey, Dot, can I tag along with the girls? I…um…hid out in the school for a while before coming here, and I think I accidentally left my…um…Muggle music-playing device there."

Dot raised an eyebrow. "You mean your MP3 player, dear?"

"That's it."

"Well, all right…. Oh, here comes the bus now. And don't forget, girls—it's Thursday!"

"Yeah, we know, Mom," said Thea. "We'll be there right after school."

"Be where?" asked Bellatrix.

"Oh, the girls can explain it later," said Dot hurriedly. "You're late, now hurry up and catch the bus!"

_Great…a filthy Muggle bus, _thought Bellatrix as she followed the girls outside. The big yellow bus stopped and its doors opened, and Thea and Gia got on. Bellatrix reluctantly took one step forward. _Do it for Voldypoo_. So she held her breath, ran onto the bus, and took a seat across from Gianna.

Gianna groaned. "Listen, frizzball. I don't know why you have to come with us, but I expect you to keep a safe distance from me, lest I be seen with you. Got it?"

Bellatrix said nothing.

"I _said_, got it?"

Still no reply; Bellatrix was turning blue.

"Oh my gosh! BREATHE!"

Bellatrix gasped for breath. "Filthy—Muggle—air!" she coughed.

"What the _crap_ are you talking about, loser? Never mind, don't talk to me."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. _No problem, psycho_, she thought to herself.

Suddenly, the bus gave a jerk as it sped away from the Roosevelt's driveway. All its passengers seemed not to notice, except for Bellatrix, who nearly fell out of her seat.

"What the—" She was thrown nearly halfway across the bus as it came to a abrupt halt, just seconds after it had kicked into full speed. Pulling herself off the ground, she regained her balance and sat down again; she looked even more disheveled than usual.

"This is insane! Where are the seatbelts?"

Thea shrugged. "There aren't any."

"_No seatbelts? _What happens if we get in an accident?"

Gianna smirked. "We use the nerds as human shields. Oh, speaking of nerds…"

The Barnes brothers entered the bus, James in front and the Steves close behind.

Bellatrix's attempt to hide her face was for naught.

"Hey! It's picture lady!"

"Ugh…hello, boys…."

The Steves both sat down on either side of her, while James took his seat next to Gianna.

"So…are you into dweebs?" said both Steves in unison.

"Excuse me?" said Bellatrix, taken by surprise.

"Cause we can be pretty darn sexy when we want to!"

"Oh, _Merlin_, no! I would never—OW!" She was cut off when both of the twins punched her hard on the arm.

"PUNCH BUGGY RED! DON'T PUNCH BACK!" they shouted, laughing hysterically.

Bellatrix watched out the window as a small, red Volkswagen bug passed by. If only she had her wand…Crucio buggy was _way_ more fun than punch buggy. But still…

"PUNCH BUGGY YELLOW! DON'T PUNCH BACK!" And she hit them across the head so forcefully that they both fell to the floor, fist-shaped bruises already forming on the sides of their skulls.

They laughed. "You friggin' _rock_ at this game!"

James was chuckling. "Gotta love that game…."

"_Idiots_," muttered Gianna.

"Oh, I agree, total idiots. Will you go out with me?"

"For the last time, _no_!"

"'For the last time, for the last time…' You say that every time I ask you out, but it never rings true, now does it?"

Bellatrix couldn't help but overhear this conversation. As much as she loathed Gianna, she actually felt a little sorry for her now, being forced to endure James and his creepy stalking ways every day of her life…. Stalking was never the way to win someone over; Bellatrix thought everyone knew that…well, unless that someone was Voldypoo. He was sure to come around eventually….

The bus came to a sudden halt once again; luckily Bellatrix had been clutching her seat the entire time, for it didn't take long for her to learn that you can never be too careful in this town. A glance out the window revealed that they had arrived at Goodness High School.

* * *

Lucius sat staring at the campfire, poking at the flames absentmindedly with a stick.

"Honey," said Narcissa, "are you all right?"

"What? Oh…of course I am."

"Well, you don't seem like it."

Lucius looked up. His wife was giving him one of her trademark 'looks;' He knew he was going to confess his troubles to her whether he liked it or not. "OK, well…Snape's just got me kind of down, I guess."

"I thought you didn't like Snape."

"I don't. It's just…he's seemed a lot more depressed than usual lately, and I'm kind of feeling a bit…"

"Guilty about it?"

Lucius flinched as if he had just been accused of something terrible. "Thank you, Narcissa. Yes, alright, I feel guilty."

"Well, why don't you make it up to him, then? Stop picking on him so much and…oh, I don't know…do something nice for a change."

"Well…you do know best, honey."

Narcissa smirked. "Yes…yes I do. And I always will!"

"Right…sure…" His face lit up. "I wonder…" He stood up and entered Snape's tent, then came out holding a cell phone. "Thought he might have left this!" He flipped open the phone, scrolled through Snape's contact list (which had only one number recorded), and began to dial. "If this doesn't cheer him up…nothing will!"


	13. The Secret Obsession of the Barnes

**A/N: Okay, it may not be perfect, but I couldn't wait any longer to submit this one. So sorry I haven't updated sooner, I've just been working on a ton of other projects, including new fanfics I'll submit when they're finished. I've been doing some Harry Potter role-playing on Twitter too - it's awesome. CassieRavenclaw is my personal account if you want to follow me (I also role-play on it) and I made a Twitter account for Voldemort too - DrkLrdVolders. I'm doing my best to make Voldy's updates as hilarious as possible, so check it out if you'd like! :)**

It wasn't two seconds after the Barnes brothers had left for school that Voldemort had made a beeline for the kitchen, his stomach rumbling and his teeth aching.

"There must be something decent to eat around here," he mumbled desperately to himself. But oh, how wrong he was, for little did he know that every single cabinet in the Barnes' kitchen was completely stuffed with nothing but hundreds of cans of…

"SPAM!" screamed the Dark Lord, slamming every cabinet door shut as soon as he opened it. There was nothing to eat at all, nothing but the gelatinous, meat-flavored mystery substance he loathed so much.

Frantic now, he opened the refrigerator door and sighed with relief to find numerous Tupperware containers inside, hopefully full of edible food. He opened each container, and each time was terribly disappointed: the first contained some sort of Spam casserole; the second, a liquefied Spam smoothie; and the third…well, you probably don't even want to know what was in there. Voldemort gave up at this point, slammed the refrigerator door shut, and found himself staring at a grocery list attached to the front by a magnet. It read: "Spam, Spam, Spam, limestone, Spam, gravel, Spam, milk (aged to perfection)."

Voldemort stood, gaping in disbelief. "What is _wrong_ with these people?"

* * *

As Draco skipped gleefully down the nature trail, Snape struggled to keep up, astonished by the fact that, despite having already hiked nonstop for three hours, the boy still seemed to lack no energy. But Draco was a very hyperactive teenager, and everything about him screamed "five-year-old;" he moved through the forest like a jackrabbit…a very effeminate jackrabbit.

"Professor Snape, Professor Snape! Look at the birdies!"

Glancing up at the sky, Snape sighed. "Those aren't 'birdies,' Draco. They're _vultures_. Clearly they sense the death that lies within me…."

With a quick "_Hmmph_!" Draco responded, "Someone didn't take their happy pills this morning…."

Snape said nothing.

"Oh, come on! The world is our oyster!"

"I'm allergic to oysters," said Snape gloomily. "They make me swell up and die. You wouldn't happen to have any, would you?" he continued with a glimmer of hope in his eye.

"You need cheering up _big time_, Professor. How 'bout a happy song?"

"Draco, I do _not_ need a happy song right now, OK?"

But Draco wasn't taking "no" for an answer. "Snape-a-dee-doo-da, Snape-a-dee-ay!" he sang cheerfully. "My, oh my, what a wonderful day! Plenty of sunshine heading Snape's way…Snape-a-dee-doo-da, Snape-a-dee-ay!"

"THAT'S IT!" roared the disgruntled potions master / spy / biker / despiser of happy songs. "We're going back to camp! _Now_! And I do _not_ want to hear about how pretty everything looks on the way there! Got it?"

"Okey dokey, Professor! Lead the way!"

Snape gladly did so, all the while trying not to notice the gleeful skipping of his most naïve and clearly gay student behind him. Of course anyone who owns a dictionary could tell you the word "gay" is synonymous with the word "happy." What did you think I meant, you pervert?

Anyways, to make a long story (which seemed even longer to Snape, having to endure the brat the entire time) short, the two made it back to camp after much hiking…and skipping. There was a serene expression on Snape's face, for he knew now he could finally be alone with his thoughts…his miserable, miserable thoughts. Absolute bliss.

But he was sadly mistaken. "Gee wilikers, Professor! Look who's here!" Yes, Draco indeed was a very "happy" young man.

"So, I felt kind of bad about giving you a hard time earlier…," said Lucius. "So I thought I'd call your little friend here to cheer you up."

Jessie stood there beside Lucius, her bright red hair gleaming in the sunlight and an even brighter smile on her face, completely clueless that she was the last person in the world Snape wanted to see right now. "Hey."

"Hello," Snape grunted.

Lucius chuckled. "We'll leave you two alone. Come along, Draco."

Snape glanced down at his feet as the two Malfoys walked away. He distinctly heard the elder say, "Lovely, isn't it? So, Son…anyone special at Hogwarts? Just wondering." He failed to decipher Draco's reply, but he could have sworn he distinctly heard the words "girls" and "cooties."

"He called me, Lucius did," said Jessie. "He gave me directions to the camp and everything. So…I guess you do have some decent friends after all."

Snape couldn't help but give a small chuckle at this. "Right."

"So…anyways, I thought you might like to see more of the city." She gestured toward the motorcycles parked on the outskirts of the camping site. "Want to go for a ride?"

"Of course!" he promptly replied, mentally scolding himself as soon as he said it. As awkward as their relationship was, and as impossible as it was for him to forget Lily, he could not deny that he thoroughly enjoyed spending time with Jessie. _You're just being stupid,_ he thought to himself. _You just met her, after all. Keep an open mind._ Yes, that was what he would have to do, if he stood any chance of ever regaining even an ounce of happiness….

"Severus?" said Jessie; Snape started. "Whenever you're done staring off into space, we can leave."

"Very well." Snape led the way toward the motorcycles and mounted his own. He continued to stare at the ground, lost in his thoughts, waiting for Jessie to hop on as well. Finally he looked up to find her on a different, unfamiliar bike. "Well?" she said. "Get on!"

"You?" said Snape scornfully. "_You're_ going to drive that thing?"

"Oh no, I'm dreadful. Had to push this thing all the way here, actually." Jessie rolled her eyes.

Snape responded by also rolling his eyes, but in a much more dramatic fashion. Now that he thought of it, the idea of Jessie driving a motorcycle did not seem so preposterous. He climbed on behind her, and was almost thrown off as she kicked off at full speed, clearly anything but a novice.

_

* * *

If they have even a single janitor in this place_, thought Bellatrix as she glanced down the filthy school hallway, _he must be blind…and lacking a sense of smell._

Graffiti covered the lockers, the walls, and the floor was coated with dirt. Looking up, she could see many water stains on the ceiling; she wondered how long they had been there. Hanging on the wall at the end of the hallway was a bright red banner with "Goodness Rodents" written across it in big blue letters.

"Goodness…_Rodents?" _said Bellatrix with disgust. "That's a pretty crappy name for a Quid…um…Muggleball team."

Gianna stared at Bella, an eyebrow raised. "_Muggleball? _You mean football?"

"Yes, football…Football is what I meant."

"Right, so…where did you leave your MP3 player, again?"

"My what? Oh, right…I…I don't remember."

The doors burst open behind them as the Barnes brothers skipped inside.

"Well, Steve?" said Steve.

"Yes, Steve?" replied Steve.

"I think we should give her the grand tour of our school, don't you think, Steve?"

"Sounds great, Steve!"

"Alright!" James almost shouted with excitement, grabbing Bellatrix by the arm. "Welcome, visitor, to Goodness High School, the awesomest school _ever_! My name is Jimmy Dawg, and I will be your tour guide this fine morning!"

"Us too!" said the Steves.

"Look," said Bellatrix, trying to jerk her arm away, "I don't have time for your stupid tour, OK? I have to follow…" She trailed off; Gianna was gone, probably off to class. "Where…where did…?"

"Our tour begins," interrupted one of the Steves, "with our lovely school cafeteria! This is where we first discovered our love for Spam…." The brothers sighed, reminiscing fondly. Bellatrix gagged.

"This," continued James, dragging Bellatrix further along down the hall, "is our history classroom. First class of the day!" Looking through a small window on the door, Bella could see Gianna already at her desk. _At least she's not off killing people_….

Bellatrix showed very little interest at anything else the school had to offer; this Muggle dump had _nothing_ on Hogwarts….

But then, something of interest caught her eye. "What's that?" It was a door not unlike all the others; a sign taped to the front declared it to be the entrance to the school's boiler room. "Boiler room?" Bellatrix stared off into space, picturing quite clearly in her mind the stupid Muggles being boiled alive in hot oil; in her imagination she could almost hear the screams, and it brought to her face a radiant smile.

"Oh, that's always locked. Only the janitor can get in, but it's boring anyway. Come on, I wanna show you the gymnasium!"

"Noooooo," she wailed as she was dragged away yet again, "I wanna see the boiling…."

But there would be no "boiling" today; eventually the tour ended with one last door at the end of one last hallway. "Principal Oldman's office," said James. "Of course, he's probably in our history classroom right now. Let's go, guys, we don't wanna be late…."

"Why would your principal be in the history classroom?" asked Bellatrix.

"Low budget," said Steve. "Principal Oldman also teaches 11th grade history and math."

They arrived at the classroom shortly. This time every seat was filled with a student, except for three, which belonged to the Barnes brothers. A very old man sat at the teacher's desk; he was almost bald, but the little hair remaining was completely gray. His glasses were so thick that Bellatrix wondered if he was legally blind.

"Principal Oldman," said James, "I'd like you to meet our new friend! Um…what did you say your name was again, Picture Lady?"

"Bellatrix," she grunted.

"Right. Can I call you Trixie?"

"No—"

"Principal Oldman, meet Trixie!"

Principal Oldman hopped out of his seat and strode over to meet Bellatrix and the boys; he was obviously not as feeble as he looked. "Pleasure to meet you," he said in a wheezy voice.

"The pleasure's mine," replied Bellatrix, although her tone made it perfectly clear that if there were any pleasure at all, it was _his_.

"Welcome to my school…."

Bellatrix nodded her head in response, and for the longest time no one said anything. Principal Oldman seemed to stare off into space…then suddenly, he started. "Who the crap is _that_?" he said, pointing at Bellatrix.

James chuckled. "Senile," he whispered to her. "I told you, Principal Oldman, this is Trixie!"

"Oh, hi, Trixie! Welcome to my school…. Now, where was I, class…?"

Thea raised her hand. "Ancient Egypt, Prinipal Oldman."

"Oh good lord," said the elderly principal in a very frightened tone. "I told 'em time travel would come to no good, I told 'em!"

"No, Principal Oldman, you're at the high school!" said Thea promptly, realizing what he really meant by "Where was I?" "You were teaching us about Ancient Egypt," she continued.

"Oh, right, right…Well, my memory's not so good…How 'bout I tell you kids about the time I single handedly defeated Hitler and won the Vietnam War for the Confederates?" There came a beeping sound from Principal Oldman's wristwatch. "Oh, it's time for my prune break!" He leaned in closer to Bellatrix and whispered, "I do love prunes….They keep me regular, you see."

"Did I…did I really need to know that?"

"To the teacher's lounge!" exclaimed Principal Oldman, who seemed not to hear Bellatrix at all. "Trixie, you're in charge of the class while I'm gone."

"What? No, I—" But he had already sped out the door.

"_Insanity_," mumbled Bellatrix under her breath. "Absolute insanity…and I _know_ insanity…."

She looked up; the whole class was staring right at her. "So…" She blushed. "Who wants to learn some…totally…rad…killing techniques?"


End file.
